The Post That I Didn't Post

Everyone applies a filter through which their thoughts and emotions are displayed to the world. Typically, this is done unconsciously (and I have written about this concept before). When writing a personal journal that can be read by all, you have to decide what filter to use and how much to reveal. Today, I wrote an entry that, although written in a metaphorical form, would have been too revealing to anyone who knows me and my family. So, the entry for today was written, but it will never be posted.

There is the often asked question of whether if a tree falls in the forest and no one is there to hear it, does it make any noise. I think that the answer must be yes since sound is independent of hearing. Similarly, if one writes a journal entry and no one is allowed to read it, was there really a journal entry. Of course! Because in the first instance the the journal entry is written for me as a personal expression. If it is read by others who get any reaction from reading it, all the better. Like any other art form, people will react to it in different ways, but it is the fact that there is a reaction that is important. They can love it, hate it or feel indifferent about it, but each is a feeling (although I prefer the "love it" reaction). In some ways, the journal may be like my sense of humor. My first audience is myself, and it is all the better if someone else gets a laugh or smile, or even groans.

So, after starting with nothing to say, I have said something or nothing, but either way it took quite a few words.

Remember That Day

The following is an exception for this journal in that it was not written by me, but it is about me so I thought that I would share it. This poem speaks for itself and I thank its authors for their kind words.

If You Can Remember That Day Six Months Ago

It was a cold day in January 2008
When we called you for advice
You said you’d be there if we needed your help
Because to own a bakery would be nice

From day one you jumped in and were never weary
So we all took your cue and were totally cheery
You hammered us with “herewiths”- we still felt upbeat
So now it was time for everyone to meet

We gathered at your office, Mike the lawyer was late
He approached with zero info and a cocky gate
His façade was scruffy, did he come in from town?
Apparently not, because his fly was down!

The case was soon hoppin’ – emails night and day
Always disputing what the other would say
Ron explained legalese to us very well
But we still don’t know – what’s ESTOPPEL?

There were so many terms – what DID they all mean?
Holdbacks, waivers, executions and lien
The lawyers spoke in tongue what did we expect
Sorry, let me preface that “WITH ALL DUE RESPECT”

With tempers flaring and cheeriness diminishing
And so much to sort – we only thought about finishing
There were brand new issues at the start of each day
Hundreds of emails, so needless to say - that

April came and Mike split the scene
Was it better or worse when along came Dean
Not to be outdone by this cowardly deserter
Ron brought out the big gun, his attorney Roberta

Although her persona you could not rattle
Could she handle this continuing battle?
The arguing and bickering simply did not rock her
Up against Dean she was still a sweet talker

The countless hours Ron worked were beyond belief
But with the help of Roberta he got SOME relief
Yet while on vacation – from his cell on the pike
We conferenced for hours… including the loser Mike

The non-compete was finally settled, we could now move ahead
We wouldn’t sell corned beef and they wouldn’t bake bread
And the problem presenting the utmost fear
Was sealed minutes before the closing when the tax lien DID clear

It was amazing to observe different lawyering techniques
What could have taken days took so many weeks
But we are grateful for this because watching Ron the Pro
We gained so much insight to lots we didn’t know

So Ron, our dear friend, we don’t know what to say
That when the deal was closed on the 5th of May
We may have felt relief, delight and pleasure
But of much more significance, a friendship to treasure

You can work on Sundays with Challah for life
And what’s a Thursday without your wife
One day we’ll pay this forward to someone in need
With love & thanks from our hearts we’ll take your lead

Love, Karen & Richard

Setting the Record Straight - The First Meeting

Over the years, there have been many tellings of the early years of Debbie's and my relationship, but we have never set it down in writing (preferring to let the story develop and morph over time). So now is as good of a time as any for me to share my recollections of the first meeting with Debbie and some of our other early adventures.

In Winter and Spring, 1978, while I was working on a Ed. M. (Masters of Education) at Harvard Graduate School of Education, I worked as an intern at the Runkle School in Brookline under a marvelous principal, Helen Herzog. That internship and my graduate degree failed to result in a principal's position (I was told that I needed more experience and, in retrospect, that was an accurate assessment). However, the internship at Runkle led to a teaching opportunity at the Heath School (also in Brookline) where I would filling in for a fifth grade teach (Ms. Wolf) who was on a sabbatical. That was a tremendous year from a teaching point of view with participation in the development of the "Democratic Classroom" concept and more, but that will be the subject for another entry.

I learned later that my "description" proceeded me to Heath (for I had no reputation that could have gone forth). Apparently Debbie Clark had been told that there was this wonderful (Jewish) guy that was coming to teach at Heath and that Debbie, as a single Jewish women, should keep her eyes open.

On one of the first days at Heath, I was sitting and talking with the fourth grade teacher, Joy Saca, about (I assume, but don't really remember) teaching and backgrounds. Joy also was new. At one point, into the room popped Debbie Clark, one of the first grade teachers. Debbie was young (same age as me, but I considered myself young), very pretty (and she still is) and with a twinkling smile. I say "popped" because Debbie was overflowing with positive, friendly energy that could be felt across the room. Debbie introduced herself from afar, told me that she was my "teaching buddy" and asked if I needed any help. At the time, I was a confident young teacher with what I believed to be solid prior experience, a sense of what I wanted to accomplish, an understanding of the system, a comfort with the position and no immediate questions. As a result, I said "No, I think I am all set!" and Debbie said o.k. and walked away. Little did I know how that response came across to Debbie, but over the years, I certainly have heard (from her) that I was a little arrogant and who was I to think that I was so cool. If I had the wisdom of years and experience, I would have said "Not right now, but come on in and join us." But, I didn't say that and, although it was a mistake on my part (neither my first nor my last) somehow, it all worked out for from this first less than positive encounter, a friendship grew. Perhaps that non-interaction made me more desirable and perhaps Debbie just wanted to figure out who I was. Perhaps I came to my senses and realized that Debbie had something special to offer.

Perhaps none of these scenarios were true. Perhaps getting to know each other was just part of being young, energetic, mostly single teachers at the relatively small Heath School. We were incredibly dedicated to the education of the children, willing to share and experiment in the classroom. There was Debbie, gifted in so many ways from her incredible ability to care for and connect with each child as well as their parents, and who brought music and colors to the classroom and the school, Malcolm Astley, a cerebral teacher who those somewhat stiff knew how to challenge his students and get the best out of them, Sandi NIcolucci, the music teacher whose musical skills and creativity knew no bounds, Nancy Brennan, the young math teacher who loved to be involved with the activities at the school and served as my ride for the (good part of) the year when my car wasn't running, Joy Saca, the fourth grade teacher who co-taught with Margot Perry, an experienced teacher with much to offer, and so many more. There was a certain bubbling energy in the school that made it a special place to be.

To be continued.

Circle of Life - Andorra Mary Zimmerman

Yesterday was the arrival call; today the naming e-mail for Andorra Mary Zimmerman, the first baby in the next generation of our family was ushered (move that "r" to the front, drop an "e" and you get the more accurate description "rushed") into this world, and as I am fond of saying lately, what a wonderful world this can be.

Andorra Mary's journey starts on July 28, 2008, and the world that she will see will, with luck and blessings, last into the next century. Hard to imagine. What will that world look like (see Shift Happens for a clue as to the direction) and what part will Andora Mary play in shaping the world (or a piece of the world)? I know that she is blessed with wonderful, caring parents who will introduce her to the wonders of the world and instill in her a sense of responsibility, and who will teach her the meaning od love and commitment that they demonstrate for each other.

How fitting that in the same calendar month in which Andorra Mary's great grandmother (from whom she gets the name Mary) passed away after a full and fulfilling life), this child is born. Although I believe in neither fate nor destiny, I do believe that people can set a path for themselves. Perhaps Andora Mary will be guided in part by the legacy of her paternal great grandmother, Mary Arbitman Fellman, and perhaps by her maternal great grandmother, Ann, and my bet is that she will take the best from each of them. Perhaps some of the material from the web page on Mary and Morris Fellman will give her a flavor of who her paternal great grandparents were, and perhaps similar materials will be passed on for her maternal great grandparents.

Perhaps it is appropriate to quote the first verse of "The Circle of Life" from The Lion King by Tim Rice:

From the day we arrive on the planet
And blinking, step into the sun
There's more to see than can ever be seen
More to do than can ever be done
There's far too much to take in here
More to find than can ever be found
But the sun rolling high
Through the sapphire sky
Keeps great and small on the endless round

Perhaps it is less appropriate to offer my own verse:

Each life has a beginning
And each life has an end
The hope and the prayer of all
Should be to find and to be a good friend

Each day is a journey
There are choices to be made
Whether to live in the bright rainbow
Or just let the colors fade

Time passes by so quickly
That's a lesson our elders teach
Most cannot understand the message
For most it is beyond their reach

So live life fully
Use the best that you possess
So in the end you'll smile
Having nothing to confess

Each day is a new beginning
Starting where the last stopped with sleep
Each day is an opportunity
For the promises you want to keep.

A Morning in Maine

The clouds were a soft gray as I awoke today, covering the entire sky. Not a day to jump out of bed, but one for which a lazy start seemed more fitting especially at 5:30 a.m. when even the dogs were continuing to lounge. As the bodies in the house started to stir, the clouds started to give way, first with s lightening of the grayness, then with breaks here and there, then with a melting of the remaining grayness, and finally, like a counter where an ice cube that has melted leaving water than is then sponged away, only the smooth blue sky remained.

A bowl of cereal covered with fresh blueberries was followed by a brisk walk with Debbie, Lori and, of course, Chipper who leaves Debbie's side only for a swim in the lake, a ball that needs retrieving, a bowl of food, an always well-deserved nap. Good exercise, good conversation, good weather. As we broke into a jog for the last mile (or so it seemed), I shouted out a jogging cadence (as experienced by me only in the movie) with the rhymes flowing effortlessly (though I can't remember them), and Debbie and Lori acting as the echos.

Soon it was into the boat for wake boarding by the boys. Nothing matches the smiles on their faces, so wide and bright and full of nothing by pleasure, not even the joy of the wind rushing by with a pure lake water smell and the motion of the boat as it cuts through the water or bounces across the waves.

I was sorry to part for the return to Boston and the office, but there was work to be done as is often the case. The ride was easy except for the feeling of exhaustion coming from too little sleep and too much morning activity.

Thought of the Day: If a day begins with a cloud covered sky and ends with a sun filled sky, clean air and warm water, then perhaps each day and each period of our lives can go from cloudy, overcast gray to a radiating warm clear day or period. Of course, each radiating warm clear day or period may turn cloudy and overcast, but as long as we know that the sun will shine again, we should be able to endure. Not so deep, but so true.

Added Thought:

Where there is water
A garden can grow
Where there is respect
Love can grow

Memories That Bring A Smile To My Face (Part II of Teaching 1975 - 76)

Part II: I ended my graduation speech by saying "Shalom" (this from one of the few Jews this community had seen). I explained that the word meant "hello" as I had said to them 2 years before, "good-bye" as I was saying to them now, and "peace" which is what I wished for them throughout their lives.

It was time for everyone to move on and as I look at the picture of the class, I wonder what happened to each of them. Perhaps someday I will find one and catch-up. I was only 23 at the time they were 13 and 14, so they would be 42 or 43 now. Hard to believe, hard to believe.

Funny Memories: On the playground one day (yes, even eighth graders had playground and recess), I was reffing a game of kick ball when I called Joy out (how do I remember than name when I can't remember people that I met yesterday). Joy, who was a tall as me and probably heavier, looked at me and said "I wasn't out you skinny fucker" (yes, I was skinny back then). Everyone was slient, the type of silence you see in the commercials for Dean Whitter (when Dean Whitter talks, everyone listens) or when you are on an airplane and lighting strikesm and there is no noise while the passengers and crew wait to see if there was an adverse impact. Everyone was looking at me for my reaction - would I take her to the principal (not that I ever resorted to that), would I impose some type of punishment, what would I do. So, looking her straight in the eyes, I simply sid to her "Don't ever call me skinny again". I had diffused a situation (I knew that the words had slipped out), I had set an example (retaliation is not always needed), I had gained respect (my power would not be used without consideration), I had solidified my relationship with the class (I could be trusted).

Another day, I noticed a note that was being passed around. I asked what it said. One of the students said, with quite a degree of enjoyment and a smirk to end all smirks, that the note simply said that one of the students, Christine Zalata, had a crush on Mr. Fellman. I simply responded that they should not make up some stories and the Christine did not have a crush on me. At that point, Christine looked me dead in the eyes and simply said "yes I do" in a voice that was as much of an invitation as it was a statement of fact. I suggested that we simply move on, but I know that I did so with a blazing red face.

Tearful Memories: That year, I had the opportunity to teach a book called "A Lantern in Her Hand" that tells the story of a child who moves to Nebraska in the mid 1800's (around 1860, I believe) and her life in the changing Nebraska landscape as the farms that were distant from any town eventually were a part of the town (in this case, Lincoln, I believe), and the changing family groups (as she grew, married, had children, lost children, had grandchildren). As I approached the end of the book, I was talking with my mother about how much I liked it, and she toldme that it had been one of her favorite books; I could see why for she (like I) appreciate history and the story of a person's life. At the end of the book, the little girl, then an old women, dies, and the scene is set and told in such a beautiful way that it brought tears to my eyes, and I remember sharing that experience with my students.

I also remember the day that, with a choked up voice, I explained to my students the significance of the last American (actually, U.S. soldier and government official) leaving Vietnam. These young people, not focused oncurrent events or recent history, didn't fully appreciate the emotion that I felt, but I was glad to tell them the story of the 60's and early 70's in a manner that I hope stayed with them.

Teaching that year was the best of times (and, unlike the period in the Tale of Two Cities, not the worst of times). I will cherish it forever and it is a part of me.

Memories That Bring A Smile To My Face (Part I of Teaching 1975 - 76)

Part I: When I was a teacher in 1976, I had the wonderful experience of teaching all of the subjects in the last eight grade in a K-8 school in Omaha, Nebraska. It was a self-contained classroom iand the school had no seventh grade so we truly were separate from the remainder of the school. We were a world unto ourselves. For the most part, the students were unaware of their potential, seedlings that simpy needed to be nurtured and given the opportunity to grow and eventually flower.

At that time, I was a young, long-haired, idealistic, liberal teacher who wanted to explain the world (as I sought to understand it myself) and at the same time was knowledgeable enough to understand the importance of the core courses (reading, writing, math) that would allow the students to explore all of the other subjects to whcih they would become exposed. My methods were sometimes so standard it is hard for me to believe - diagraming sentences which I am not sure that I could do today (but perhaps it remains in my mind), drilling math facts (did I really have the students "race" to complete the math fact sheets), worksheets on everything. Sometimes, my methods were creative that even now I smile - math word questions using the names of my dogs and silly events, using the lyrics of the Beatles and other to teach poetry and analysis, field trips to new places to which most students would otherwise nver go with thought provoking, challenging questions and the use of the socratic method before I truly knew what it was. I was then and throughout my teaching career heavily influenced by "To Sir With Love", and I believed then and now that the message of that story was true - teachers can make a difference in lives. So, the opportunity to teach is an opportunity to be valued, and one that changes one's life - forever.

That year and throughout my teaching career, I was given a tremendous amount of lattitude by principals and the school adminstrators, even though my looks were not conservative - for I had the beard and long hair that might have made some leary, but I think that my understanding of the basic skills and how to teach them, my ability to set goals and expectations, and to fulfill them, my relationships with the students and their parents (who looked at this 24 year old with both questioning eyes and respect), and my dedication, made it possible for everyone to have faith in me.

That year saw an explosive growth for some (certainly me) and hopefully the laying of the foundations for future growth for others. One of my personal favorite aspects of the year was the debate and speech elements. One young man who studdered whenever he spoke discovered that in giving speeches (such as the Gettysburg Address) his studder vanished. A class of young people who lacked the ability to listen to others learned the importance of listening and preparing, and won more than one trophy in the debate contests we entered. We got lots of credit for being a small school, with 20 students and one teacher, and yet excelling in the system-wide contests. I certainly felt the pride, but it was the pride that I saw in the students that was the real reward. The year started with my asking everyone to set goals and ended with (if I do say so myself) a magnificent graduation comlete with a wonderful graduation booklet and class newspaper (containing predictions for the future, a class will, creative writing and more). I remember my closing speech (which I think included a paraphrase of the Sandburg quote "some see thengs as they are and ask why, others see things as they could be and ask why not" and a challenge to each one to always ask "why not" and then to make it happen) (and in this reflection, I realize that I have used this phrase and challenge many times in my life. (Continued in Part II)

Sunday In Maine

Disclaimer - actually not in Maine, yet - leaving at 7 a.m. to get there for a full day by the lake sitting on the deck overlooking the ever changing waters, swimming, boating and kayaking.

Disclaimer #2, leaving at 8 a.m. as geeting started on even the simplest of adventures can be time consuming.

Disclaimer #3, leaving at 9:38 a.m., after a slow, but unstressed start.  More to come.

The ride to Maine was peaceful and therefore enjoyable. I listened to my driving music with the headliner being the Dead. I also started a video blog that, perhaps, I will share in the future. Having goten tremendous enjoy from the pictures and video of my mother before the years and Altzheimer's took so much from her, I wanted to start to capture more video of myself just being myself. So, in this case, I sang along with the music and talked some about the memories the music created. Silly perhaps, but I think about how much my children and my yet to be conceived grandchildren may enjoy (which definitely includes laughter both with and at me) these spontaneous, unedited (oh, another disclaimer, I will edit) moments.

Thought of the Day: So much of a person's life takes place internally - in the thoughts and emotions within our minds - and for the most part, through some process both understood and not understood, conscious and unconscious, we determine what will be revealed to the world. Perhaps (but I am not certain about this) the only uncensored times are those in which the emotions overwhelm the process - the spontaneous, uncontrollable laughter or tears, the angry outbursts, the pure reactions. Maybe the process takes place even in those times, but I think not.

Attempt At Real Poetry (AARP) (The title was just so I could write "AARP"):

Sunshine radaiting on the pleasant lake
Reflecting and sparkling through the pines ever green
Filling the eyes and the soul as full as can be
Till the lips are pulled in a mile wide smile

Dogs spread about with bodies full splayed,
All sizes, all shapes, all colors and shades,
Six tails wagging in silence as sleep they approach
Until one barks and twenty-four legs move in unison action

Children, all boys, living with patterns that vary
From the quiet video games to the games with balls of all types
Sometimes enjoying each other's company
Sometimes tears before laughter once again appears

Math games with one, teaching addition and subtraction,
Bringing back memories of years of teaching my own
And of teaching first graders math facts and more
Now to that teaching age (was I just 24) I have added my years

A cotton puppy in her lap as she lounges in the warm sun
The purple plastic fan moving the thick air across her face
Reading a new book that brings saddnes to her eyes
It reflects elements of our lives, with the ending yet unknown

With the boys being watched by non-parent adults
The mother ventures out for a few moments by herself
A rarity for sure when three boys have been had
A time for quite reflection and shopping for food (and toys)

So now a breeze is stirring those trees ever green
It is time for me to rise and see what can be seen
Unlike that others this last stanza will rhyme
I have tried not to do so, but I have run out of time.

Saturday In The Park

First a disclaimer!  Although it is Saturday and this entry is entitle "Saturday In The Park", I was not in the park.  Rather Saturday afternoon was spent in my office - which now is a rare occurrence (thankfully).  In any event, after being away for so much of the last few weeks (or at least that is how it felt), it was good spending some quiet time in the office getting organized for I am one of those who always prefers organization in my office.  As least when I was sitting in my office, I was looking out on the lush green trees outside the windows, the green plants in my office, and was listening to music on Pandora (if you haven't tired Pandora, you should - just click on Pandora to listen to the music of your choice and to be introduced to new music that you may like). 

In fact, the music made a lot of difference since I was able to listen to my "oldies" favorites such as Jackson Browne, Rod Stewart, Simon and Garfunkel, The Band, and James Taylor - what I would call "easy listening".  I'll reserve Springsteen, the Dead, Meat Loaf and the other more driving music for another day.

This evening, we were at an engagement party for Jess and Danielle.  I couldn't help but think about the engagement party for Debbie and me 28 years ago.  We truly are our parents just as someday, they will be us.  Circle of life.

So, another day, another post - this one not even that interesting to me.  I am trying to write every day just to see if I can do it.  I wonder whether eventually I will come up with something truly interesting and thoughtful (and maybe I have, but am too close to it to see it). 

More Lessons From My Garden

As a first time vegetable garden "farmer", I seem to be learning new lessons all of the time. Today, I was explaining how my cucumber plants had spread across the "floor" of my garden and were attaching themselves to the tomato, bean and other plants.  Really quite an interesting process as the beautiful slim cucumber plant tentacles wrap in circles around branches and vines of the other plants.  However, when I went to unwrap one of those tentacles, it appeared to be cutting into the other plant.  Will it eventually suck the life out of the other plant?  Will it pull down and break the other plant?  In any event, I was told that cucumber plants need trellises, fences or similar structures on which to grow.  Who knew?  Not I?

Thought for the Day:  If we don't have a good support system in life and sufficient room, will we simply wrap ourselves around everything and everyone around us to the extent that we prevent their growth and sap them of life?  

Comment and Thought Follow-Up:  Yesterday, I wrote about the importance of moderation and I received my first "comment" on my blog.  I was from anonymous (but I would like to know who wrote).  The comment was "Moderation can help one through life, but sometimes it's the excesses that give it excitement."  In my opinion, a good comment and so, let me modify yesterday's Thought by noting that excesses are a good part of life as long as those excesses are in moderation:)

Rain and Flooding

Today we awoke to a torrential downpour. The thunder was shaking the house (literally) at the same time that the lighting was flashing across the sky.  There was no counting "one one thousand" between the lighting and the thunder.  It was awesome.

At the same time, the television news was reporting on the hurricane in Texas and the surrounding states, and on the flooding of the Mississippi (or was it the Missouri further north) river, and the damage caused by both the waters, and the mud and muck that covered the land, the streets and the homes.  

Thought of the Day:  If the life-sustaining water also can be the life-destroying water, then perhaps anything that benefits our lives in moderation can be destructive when it becomes excessive.  

Moderation  

Moderation 

Moderation

Israel Peace Talks - The Interviews

I am about to upload the movie of my interviews with Israelis and Jordanians concerning whether there will be peace in Israel and in the Middle East.  To put the movie on You Tube, I had to cut almost four minutes from the original version.  These cuts included the introductions of the various persons being interviewed and parts of the clips that I already had chosen.  

To my pleasant surprise, the edited version is much better than the original (at least in my opinion).  Each time I make a movie, I seem to learn so much and, although it may or may not be reflected in the end product (I hope that it is), I know that over time the quality of the productions will improve.  Even if that were not the case, my level of enjoyment seems to increase as I learn more - whether with respect to filming (note: tripods and hi-definition cameras help), clip selection or editing.

If you would like to see the new movie, just click on the title Israel Peace Talks or go to Nantucket Road Studios, my You Tube site(but if you are reading this Wednesday night, note that you won't be able to do so until Thursday morning).  

Let me know if you have any thoughts about the movie or anything else.

Thought for the Day:  If the process of editing a movie or a document tends to both reduce the raw product and create a better end result, what happens when we edit the extraneous parts of our lives and get closer to the essence?

Playing With Words - Being Absurd

Thoughts to words

Words to actions

Actions to consequences

Wish I had thought more.

Thinking to writing

Writing to reading

Reading to thinking

Just living in a circle.

Mindless meanderings

Wandering aimlessly

All without thinking

But doing it painlessly.

Taking a thought

Writing it down

Reading it back

Sounds so less profound.

Playing with words

That will never be heard

Which is probably lucky

As most sound absurd.

Trying to write

Something that sounds so deep

Reading it back

I should have decided to sleep

Where Does The Time Go?

Where does the time go?  I guess I am lucky that I have more to do than there is time to do it.  The most recent project has been the creation of my web site RonaldMFellman and adding content to it.  This has led to the completion and uploading of videos to my You Tube site, Nantucket Road Studios that as of today is up to 14 videos with many more to come.  One of the problems is that You Tube has a video time limit of 10 minutes and many of my videos are long so I have to cut parts and ask myself "Where Does The Time Go?"  Creating a slide show of my parents' lives has taken up a fair amount of time in the last few days and, as I look at pictures showing them as children, young adults, middle age adults and older adults, I wonder to myself, "Where Does The Time Go?"  So, this gets back to the question raised by the poem, The Dash, that Rabbi Lisa Eiduson read at the Shiva we had for my mom (was that just a week ago - "Where Does The Time Go?") (you can read the poem yourself at the Mary Arbitman Fellman page on my web site) and had read at Debbie's mom's funeral almost four years ago (once again, "Where Does The Time Go?", how will we spend the time between our birth and our death that is signified simply be a "-" between two dates, and I suppose the lesson is to spend it so that you don's as "Where Did The Time Go?"

Growing Cucumbers and Living Life

Until yesterday, I never knew that before the cucumber developed its (relatively) smooth skin, it has lots of little spikes - probably to protect it.  Interesting that people start out with smooth skin, develop little spikes based on experience and, with any luck, make it through life like the cucumber, having shed the spikes and having only the bumps to show that they ever existed. 

View a slide show of my garden by clicking the Web Site Ronald M. Fellman

or visit the pictures at Nantucket Road Studios on You Tube: 

Fruits (or more accurately, Vegetables) of the Garden

Notwithstanding my lack of experience in vegetable gardening, the garden has produced food for our table.  First, we had lettuce (although it has not been as tasty as I thought it would be).  Then, yesterday, Becky found full grown green beans hiding within the tangle of leaves.  We each had one or two for dinner, and we look forward to continuing to eat them for the remainder of the season.  We also now have over a dozen tomatoes growing - even on the small plants that have not grown in height or branched out much, and we are awaiting their maturity.  Finally, the first cucumbers have started to grow and we anticipate a full crop and a good pickling season (assuming I learn how to pickle).

Now, it is off to one of my other gardens - the law firm - to see what is growing there.

My Garden

Earlier this year, I planted my first vegetable garden. I prepared the first section (at the time, it was to be the only section) by turning the earth, removing the grass and other growth, adding manure and top soil, and mixing it all. The ground was ready for plants. Once I had planted the my vegetable (tomatoes, lettuce, broccoli and more, I discovered that my garden was not large enough for the plants I had purchased. The solution was to quickly turn some additional area and simply place the plants and seeds in the unprepared earth (no manure or top soil). The result five weeks later - the plants in the prepared soil have died or are stunted in their growth and the plants in the unprepared area are growing, expanding and beginning to produce.

The lesson that I take is that you can plan all you want, but nature will often just takes its course. This is true of gardens and life.

First Thoughts on The Blog

Just an initial entry to get my feet wet.  There are so many thoughts to share . . . but will anyone be interested in reading them. Time will tell and even if no one reads these thoughts, I will have expressed them and, in doing so, will have had the opportunity to process them.