Saturday, April 19, 2008


I think I'm turning into a "granola".


"What's a granola?" you ask.


A granola is what I started calling those strange northwesterners who wore earthy-toned clothes, toques (beanies, or knitted winter hats for my American friends) year round, they ride their bikes instead of taking a car, grow their own vegitation instead of buying from the local grocer, wash, sort, recycle and compost everything instead of smashing it all into a green trashbag, they eat granola... with soymilk for the sheer pleasure of it. They've been known to hug trees. And, they probably like tofu.


A granola.


So... I think I'm turning into a granola.


This morning, I woke up and peered out my bedroom window to see that we had been blessed nearly a foot of snow. Yes. In mid-April. It's a wonderland! But, my first thoughts went to my garden and my bushes. My rhodos (formerly known as "the big bush in the back with the huge pink flowers") were bent over under the strain of the heavy, wet snow. I grabbed my robe and shuffled to the den to see a big-picture window view of my neighbour's yard... snow EVERYWHERE. Thick, heavy, white and quiet. Beautiful. I looked down... my fluffy white "what's it called" bush was nearly flattened. My eyebrows krinkled together in concern.

I made my way to the studio and peered toward the mountain past my weeping willow tree. Covered. The mountain, every tree, every rooftop, the road... and... then I saw it.

My weeping willow tree lost a major limb and was laying half-in my driveway. I rushed downstairs to the living room for a better look... It's my favourite branch... the one we drive under and pretend it's a carwash... as it tickles our car when we pull in our out of our house. Gone. And I was... sad. I was sad for the tree. What the mess? What's happening to me?


I got dressed, put on layers of socks and headed outside. I grabbed a rake from the garden shed and went around the yard knocking the heavy snow from off of my bushes. It was so pretty to look at... the snow covered flowers and spring bushes... but I knew that while the young bushes would recover, the older bushes might just snap under the strain.


I was out in my yard... saving the trees.


When I returned to the house, I shook off the snow and put things away. And, I found myself going on and on about how sad I was to lose that limb. Derek seemed sympathetic to how I felt, but rather unconcerned for the tree. He was just trying to figure out how to get it out of the driveway.


I wondered what could be done with the wood... the long, willowy branches. Could I make something? Is weeping willow tree wood any good for anything? I was starting to sound like a granola. Recycle, reuse. What would the Indians have done?


I'm still rather upset about the tree. But, I've gathered my senses. A friend is going to bring his chainsaw and help us cut up the carcass...er... limb and haul it off.


So... I made my way to the kitchen and toasted some whole wheat toast and made a cup of organic tea for breakfast.


The teabag wrapper went into the recycle bin, the teabag went into my compost.


Granola anyone?


-Jennifer-



2 comments:

*Le Anna* said...

LOVED this article, girl! You are getting very articulate and witty in your writing. I was thinking of that old Dr. Pepper commercial, but instead, "I'm a granola, you're a granola, wouldn't you like to be a granola too?" while skipping down the street in my organic cotton clothes, pushing a cart with my recycle containers and sorting trash, while walking on my way to the organic market to bring home seeds for my organic garden and enjoying the scenary while sipping my own home roasted organic coffee. Mmmmm... LOL!
Love ya!

busymom said...

hey
whats wrong with being a granola! glad to see your thinkg green. our snow finally disappeared and spring is here. i have to much going on to update now check out my blog. see ya later