My father is not just military, he is militant in everything he does. I am the proverbial "apple".
If my father wanted to learn to build a table, he read numerous books, then purchased the lumber and tools, and then did it. If he wanted to join a band, he practiced twice as many hours as recommended.
My father expects the same from everyone else.
I mentioned that I am the "apple" though, right?
Yes, I can remember my father getting a phone call from my music instructor saying that he believed I was forging my time sheets for practice. (I will never know why he made this call, as I was first chair and at that time was a year younger than anyone who had ever held first chair before. Obviously, I was practicing.) To be fair, I was a preteen in a teen world. All of the other students were older than me and I was probably pretty mouthy in my effort to hold my own ground...
Back on track... So, my father asked the music instructor how much time I had logged. He didn't remember what he had signed for me.
My music instructor told him the number of hours and my father shouted something to the effect that any idiot could tell I practiced that much every week as I played the same pieces over and over until I perfected them.
I also had a science teacher accuse me of cheating. Again, I will never understand why. It was material that is printed on a poster in almost every science classroom in the world.
It was a test. The only question was, "Write down the first ten elements from the periodic table."
My previous science teacher had taught our class a cool mnemonic, so I quickly jotted down the answers and flipped my paper over.
Needless to say, my father wasn't impressed with her intelligence either. My father was of course, like many other fathers, and was certain that his child was simply an unrecognized genius. (Sigh)
So, my point is, that I have always worked hard when I am supposed to. I love to learn. I may have a funny attitude, but inside I am secretly as serious and as militant as my father. I joke around, I can be rather flippant, but only in the comfort of careful planning and preparation.
When my daughters complain that something is not easy to learn, I simply remind them of some other task that they believed was once insurmountable. Then I remind them of how ridiculously easy it is now. I tell them to practice, learn and do and it all gets easier.
I had renter's insurance in college when none of my friends did. I had graph paper on my fridge that calculated how I would spend every hour of each day.
Things have not changed. I am learning how to grow more and more vegetables. To date, I believe I have read more than fifty books on subject ranging from companion planting to compost to extended seasons... and so much more.
I have a secret though. The more I read, the more questions I have. The more questions I have, the more books and internet sites I will search through. The more notes I take, the more I feel compelled to try to do.
I have a friend who literally just plants a few things and just waits to see what will come up. I am fairly sure that she does not stay up late at night scouring the internet looking for a solution to her vegetable woes. She has not calculated the approximate yield from each plant using weather as a variable. She simply plants a few things and then when she notices that something is ready, she picks it.
That's it.
She gives me quirky looks sometimes, and I reciprocate. Secretly I am jealous.
I have imagined myself with an acreage that is planted rather randomly with a nice cobblestone path that meanders. When I try to draw something like that for my own back yard, I am gifted only with right angles and symmetry.
Ha! I found a book that explains in great detail how to plant randomly and create a meandering path. It speaks to me as it uses specific details. Use the odd numbers only. 3's, 5's, etc to decide how many of something to plant. Ha! This book bridges the gap for me. I crave that life. I crave the simple, the meandering path. Yet I also am compelled to work and keep order. Perhaps with a little more research, I can merge the two processes.
I can create a meandering path with my right angle mind. I wonder if my dad every feels this way.....
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