My Corny Obsessions...

I'm sometimes accused of being on the obsessive-compulsive side of things around here. It's funny, because I'm sure my actions can be interpreted that way, and I definitely go overboard sometimes when I get involved in a project.

I think it is because I am able to really focus and carry out a project--I'm disciplined and will stick with it. So I guess there are two sides to it, like anything else: On the up-side I get things done. On the down-side, people, including my wife and kids, think I go a little crazy over odd, insignificant things.

One funny thing that has been going on is that I got it in my mind to grow corn. I bought some seeds at Home Depot a year or so ago with the intention of making a small vegetable garden along the side of our house. There's a very convenient spot around the corner, but when I mentioned it I was reminded that the sunlight is just all wrong, the water drains funny over there and sometimes pools, and we have small holes in the bottom of our fence which is the reason that we get rabbits coming through the yard (which is fine with me--we love watching them munching the grass and flowers (Fran: not so much the flowers).

So I missed the good planting time last year, and decided to hold onto the seeds til this year. It was then that I realized that, for some still-unknown reason, Fran has a huge objection to growing corn. She kept rolling her eyes whenever I mentioned it, and stalling me from planting it so I would miss the window again. When I told her on the phone sometime last month that I planned to plant the seeds that evening, she told me that she had thrown them away since they were "five years old" and wouldn't grow. This made me more anxious than ever to get them in the ground.

When I got home, I decided on a trick that would end some of the objection: I asked Kaitlyn to help me plant the seeds.

Instead of making a new bed, I grabbed some large pots that had been abandoned, loosened the dirt and mixed in some soil, and had Kaitlyn help me plant the seeds. We were delighted when the plants came up, and they've been growing at a very fast rate.

I still tease Fran about it, though--she rolls her eyes jokingly and says,"You're going to do all that work, end up with these huge plants, and not one ear of corn." Which is fine with me, anyway.

Heading out to the patio which contains my five or six corn plants, I tell her, "Hey, if you need me, I'm going to be out in the cornfield!" which seems to raise her blood pressure for some reason.

Kaitlyn has now long-since lost interest in them-at first they were our baby plants and needed water, but our deluge this spring has made that less necessary. The plants are now well over two feet high, and could really use replanting in a flower bed somewhere...when I get the time.

But I know why exactly I want to grow corn in the first place, and it's a reason that's hard to talk about. I think that people who live on farms are living a real life. Coaxing food from the earth is not a trivial thing--it's just short of a miracle in my mind. Even though I'm from Texas where we have a lot of farms, I'm still a little in awe of them. Huge stretches of land, large, creaky farm houses, and animals everywhere. I just think that would be a great way to live. I'm not alone: A popular housing project these days in this area are large homes built on 2-5 acre lots, surrounded by fencing--kind of a Mc-Ranchhouse.

I could see myself retiring to the country someday. I wouldn't want to be in a situation where I had go work a farm to live--I would like to have the benefits without the downside. Imagine the peace and quiet and security.

Perhaps the act of dropping a few seeds in the ground is a declaration of intent...Daring to consider the future as something different.