Two Rose Bushes

I have said many times that I have no idea who actually reads these posts.  I don't know how to monitor who subscribes to the blog, and few people ever send me comments (except for my daughter Katie and Ms. Karen ~ so nice to hear from you!). However, curiosity always comes in the form of a text or a phone call from friends and family.
  
Tell me about the two rose bushes!  When are you going to write about the lesson you learned from the two rose bushes?  I want to read about the man who planted the two rose bushes in front of the dilapidated house.

TODAY'S BIG STORY: The twin sisters find a happy ending!

Somehow I missed the two rose bushes when they were first planted. I only noticed them during their first season of bloom, which was two years ago ~ and do they ever bloom.  Throughout their blooming season, the two rose bushes look as though they could be featured as an advertised variety in the Jackson and Perkins rose catalog. The rich, red, velvety blooms are the size of dinner-plate dahlias ~ four to six inches each, at least.  The stems are long, and the foliage is a lush, dark green. I call the two rose bushes the twin sisters, and I have been drawn to their enchanting allurement for two years. Because there has been a NO TRESPASSING sign on the front door of the home, I have never stopped on the side of the road and taken a picture.  I can only come close to describing the symmetrical beauty of the superb performers as two stunning, oversize bouquets perfectly arranged for a grand foyer in a stately mansion.

However, these two rose bushes are not the floral embellishments of a palatial estate. The twin sisters reside at the remnants of a run-down poultry farm. The roofs of the two hen houses are falling in, and most of the wall materials have been removed. To the side of the tattered, tumble-down chicken farm is a neglected worker's shanty.  With the exception of the two rose bushes, the place looks deserted and dilapidated.  Even the old man whom I would occasionally see at the farm looks bent-over and worn-out.

Why? is the question I asked myself.  Why in the world would anyone plant such beautiful roses in front of a total eyesore? The answer to that question is where the lesson began for me. The life lecture started with the front porch...

I saw the old man doing something to the front of the house about six months after the two roses' first blooming season. Hmm...every morning and evening I watched him as he built the cutest front porch out of the scrap lumber from the poultry house.  He painted the front porch railing a bright white, which immediately gave the weathered shack a welcomed face lift. About six months later, he began the process of removing the rotten decking around the house and replacing the broken pieces of wood siding ~ once again, using the leftover lumber from the abandoned hen houses.

Of course, the twin sisters were showing off the entire time! Then came the A-ha Moment! The two rose bushes were never intended to be the first chapter; the two rose bushes are the happy ending! He planted the final embellishments first!  In the old man's mind, the two rose bushes served as a daily reminder of the loveliness that he planned to create. I did not understand the purpose behind the two rose bushes, because I could not see the vision of the designer nor could I imagine the artistry of his handiwork.

Day by day, I watched as he matched the surroundings of his habitation to the aesthetic glory of the two rose bushes.  About six months ago, he took the last pieces of the used tin from the chicken houses and placed it on top of his charming little cottage.  After resourcing all the usable materials from the old farm, he completely removed any remaining debris.  In the early spring, he began tilling the "fertilized" area where the hen houses once stood to plant a small garden.

Now, the twin sisters absolutely belonged.  The two rose bushes sit on either side of the most whimsical little cottage painted a morning fog gray with a bright white porch.  The garden is ripe for harvest, and the entire residence is completely transformed.  Of course, since most of the work is complete, the old man doesn't look as tired. To be quite honest, he doesn't look old at all!

Just amazing...the lesson of the two rose bushes.  If only we could see the flowery finished product first.  If only we could be driven by the most desired outcome and be reminded of that ideal on a daily basis.  The two rose bushes were not just horticultural wonders; they were the architect's foresight, his perspective, his breadth of view.  All of which were beyond my limited range of perception and depth of field.

Even though the NO TRESPASSING sign is gone, I think I understand the purpose of why it remained on the front door throughout the process.  Sometimes we have a vision, and we need our own NO TRESPASSING sign. The sign says to the passerby, "This is a work in progress. This is my private space. Do not knock on my door and tell me that my dream is a lost cause. Don't undermine my decisions or second-guess my intentions.  LEAVE MY ROSE BUSHES ALONE!"

One other lesson I learned from the two rose bushes is that sometimes the work is being done behind the scenes, and we just don't see it.  I am sure that somewhere behind that beautifully-restored cottage is a stack of lumber and a pile of tin.  We see the clever restoration, but we don't always see makeshift provisions.  We recognize the refined outcome, but we often overlook the raw, rudimentary elements of the grand design.

The twin sisters are now fully mature; their beauty is unmatched.  The elderly man's residence is restored, and his dream is realized.  Every morning when I drive to work, I see him working in his garden. Every evening when I drive home, I see him sitting on his front porch.

And I think to myself, it all ended with two rose bushes...

Dianne ; )

Route Perspective

When it comes to directions, my husband says that there are two types of people in this world: 1) the people who give specific directions according to interstate exit numbers, street names, and physical addresses or 2) the people (like me) who give general directions according to points of interest or landmarks.  He is actually correct in his observation.  The first basic way to give directions is called the survey perspective and is characterized by cardinal directions (north, south, east and west), street signs, exit numbers and names, traffic lights, and mileage distance. The second basic way is called the route perspective and is characterized by landmarks. For example, I would explain the route to my library from the interstate exit in this manner: Turn by McDonald's, pass the big tower on the left, then turn right at the Church of God.  When you get to this sharp curve, start looking for the bank and the post office. The library is located right next to the bank.  My husband would explain the route in a very different way: Turn right onto Highway 13, go three miles, and take a right on Highway 481. Once you drive an additional two miles, take a right on Fourth Avenue, and the library is located directly on the corner of the intersection.

As I was creating this post in my head, I had such an epiphany ~ an A-ha moment! These two groups are really the two types of people in this world!  Group A ~ the survey perspective ~ get from Point A to Point B. Their world is a giant grid, and their ability to navigate this grid is primary.  Group B ~ the route perspective ~ don't miss anything along the way.  Their world consists of points of interest, and their ability to become familiar with every single landmark is primary.

What I am about to share is absolutely true.  My husband and I were driving to my mom's house ~ a route we travel on a weekly basis, at least.  I mentioned to him that I was writing a post about these two beautiful rose bushes that had been planted in front of a dilapidated house, which happens to be located on the road to mom's.  I was telling him about the lesson I had learned from those two rose bushes over the past year.  Then I pointed out the house (and the rose bushes) to my husband as we passed by.  He said, "I have never even noticed that house."

WHAT!?!  How do you travel the same highway three or four times a week and not take notice of the route or more especially those glorious rose bushes?  I notice EVERYTHING!  I have route perspective to the power of ten!  I notice when someone keeps their large white dog in small cyclone fence all day...in the hot Mississippi sun!  I notice the change of clothes on the scarecrow every season at this small roadside garden spot.  I never miss a single garage sale sign, and I never miss birthday balloons tied to a mailbox.

Survey people, on the other hand, know how to navigate.  They know the shortest distances, and the best roads to travel, and how much time it will take to get from Point A to Point B.  I am sure they have unmatched navigational skills, which provide minimal turns, detailed directions, and a well-defined destination. My husband belongs to this life group. For him, life is all about navigating the grid ~ having a steady income, saving for retirement, paying for college, maintaining a healthy lifestyle, and doing all of the above in the most timely manner possible.

For me, life is all about the route!  I just want to take the long way around in everything I do!  I would rather miss a right (correct) turn than to miss a point of interest!  I can't even understand the concept of a grid! I know that the people around me recognize me as a route person ~ especially the survey people.  The other day I was walking out of the library with a co-worker who is retiring this year after thirty years of employment. She is a master at navigating the grid, and her post-retirement destination is well-defined.  As we talked about my future plans at the library, she asked me how old I was.  I told her my age, and she made a statement that has stuck with me all week. "Well, you have no possibility of a real retirement, so it doesn't matter what you do at this point," she flatly stated.

I had just completely fallen off the grid.  According to her, I had arrived at a navigational term known as a drop dead point. A drop dead point is a specific place (a landmark, an intersection, a dead end) that tells the person that they have gone too far; they have missed their turn.  For example, if you come to the four-way stop, you have gone too far. In her mind, I had gone too far. I had missed my turn. I had not understood how the grid was supposed to work. I had reached the drop dead point. (I am trying to be serious, so don't laugh.)

Therefore, with no clear destination in sight, I guess I'll just enjoy the journey! I think that it is absolutely impossible for people with a true route perspective to ever travel this life any other way.  So...I might not get there before you do. I might never arrive at all, but I can certainly give you some great directions to two glorious rose bushes!

Dianne ; )

New Post - Postponed!

Only one post last month, but this one will make up for lost time!

On Saturday, May 25th, my husband, my son, and I went to a Memorial Day cookout at my daughter's home.  Katie's boyfriend, Brandon, grills the absolute best ribs that I have ever eaten, and coming from a Southerner, that's a mouthful!  I was assigned to bring two dishes to the cookout: spicy coleslaw and homemade ice cream.  My husband had just bought two large boxes of fresh Louisiana strawberries, so I pre-mixed all the ingredients for the ice cream before we left our house. As we wheeled the cooler of spicy coleslaw, strawberry ice cream mixture, and ice along the brick walkway that leads to the front door of Katie's house, the cooler tipped over.  The top popped off the mixture of homemade ice cream, and the sticky, sweet, strawberry liquid spilled onto the bricks. It was not a pretty site.

Not to be denied homemade ice cream, Brandon sent Katie to the grocery store for sweetened condensed milk, vanilla flavoring, and a bag of sugar.  What happened next is part one of this postponed post.  Once Katie drove out of the driveway, Brandon said, "Well, y'all, I think that spill was meant to happen."

He continued, "Mr. David, I need to do something today, because the next time I see you ~ probably on Father's Day ~ Katie is going to have a big surprise.  I want to ask you for Katie's hand in marriage."

Then Brandon turned towards Matt and me. "I guess I am asking for your family's blessing...if y'all will have me."

David responded, "How soon can you take her?" in his usual prankster fashion.  But then he said, "In all seriousness, I think you both are going to make each other very happy."

Brandon advised us that Katie knew nothing.  He said that he had been planning the details for months, and that we would hear all about it soon enough.  But for the meantime...total secrecy!

So...on Thursday, June 6th, at 7:07 p.m., I received a text:  Hey, this is Brandon. Hopefully at some point Katie will say YES!!! this weekend when I ask her the big question in New Orleans!!! Please don't say a word to her about it...Everything is a BIG surprise!!! Hope she loves it!!!  Then he sent me this photo:

OMG!!! I replied. So excited for both of you! Don't worry ~ my lips are sealed! I want every single minute to be a complete surprise! The ring is gorgeous! You are going to make her so happy!

About 7:30 p.m., Katie called me and said that Brandon was taking her somewhere over the weekend and that she had no idea what was happening. I was pretty sure she knew WHAT was happening; she just didn't know how or when or where. Still I said nothing.

She sent me her first text on Friday, June 7th at 8:09 a.m. (I just love documented phone texts!) Getting around this morning...drinking my coffee. I'm excited! Brandon gave me a clue! He said the name of my K-Cup coffee is a hint. It's Emeril's Coffee!

Her next text was received at 11:29 a.m. We have to be going to NEW ORLEANS, we just have to! I'm getting happy, happy, happy!

Then at 2:56 p.m., I received another update. We are staying at the Bourbon Orleans Hotel! OMG! We are right on Bourbon Street! Mom, this is insane!

I have never known third-party excitement like I experienced for the next 48 hours.  I have watched great movies with happy endings, witnessed my fair share of unexpected homecomings and celebrity giveaways, and written hundreds of stories about embracing the best of today.  Nothing prepared me for all the joy that was coming my way, which brings me to part two of my postponed post.

Carriage Ride in the French Quarter ~ Friday, 7:13 p.m.

Beignets at the Cafe Du Monde ~ 9:25 p.m.

Steamboat Ride on the Natchez ~ Saturday, 12:55 p.m.

Me and Padma from Top Chef at the Creole Tomato Festival! ~ 3:57 p.m.

I'm shaking! I mean can this day get any better?

I'm ENGAGED!!!!! He proposed in Jackson Square! ~ 4:33 p.m.

OMG! Some people saw Brandon proposing and took this picture! 

This is where he proposed!

 

 IT'S PERFECT!

This one's mine!

I'm spoken for!

I am so excited I can't go to sleep!

Since that eventful weekend, my days and nights have been filled with texts and telephone conversations about wedding ideas ~ save the date pictures, groomsman and bridesmaid announcements, venue contracts, and secret Pinterest boards! Life as I knew it ~ pre-engagement ~ has been postponed.  Even though I am familiar with the definition of postpone, I wanted to look it up for the sake of this post.  Webster defines postpone as to place later in order of precedence, preference, or importance ~ to defer; to submit humbly to another's wishes; to put on hold in service to another. So, from now until April 26, 2014, any future posts on The Tomorrow Trunk are subject to be postponed!

Dianne ; )