News

I went to the St. Louis Botanical Garden today. My friend, and fellow writer Debbie Millitello met me there. We’ve been meaning to go to the garden and see the Irises every year, but the last time we actually did it was nearly ten years ago. I was still married to my first husband. Her husband was still at his job at Shell. It had been awhile. Every year we’d say, we should go to the garden and see the Irises, and every year, May would pass, and we wouldn’t get there. One of my promises to myself in Florida, as I stared out at the ocean was that I would see my friends more. Ten years between trips to see the Irises is a long time. Debbie and I couldn’t remember the last time we’d gotten together just the two of us and went out anywhere. My new mantra, "I’m okay with being this busy, or busier, as long as I get a life, too."

The Irises were so beautiful, in the early summer sun, so many colors, that we stopped from a distance to admire the whole show. Iris was the name of a messenger for the Roman Gods, and the rainbow was her sign in the sky that she was carrying messages between heaven and earth. The Iris garden today made that seem real.

Debbie and I walked the garden, admiring all the different sizes, shapes, forms, colors, smells. I took notes, because I’m hoping to put out a smaller iris garden of my own this fall. We bemoaned that we had both forgotten our cameras at home. The internet will help me find pictures to go with the names and the notes I made, but next year we’ll take a camera.

There are benches in the shade near the flowers, and we sat and talked, and just drank it all in, the view, the scent, the friendship. It was good. We’ve already made tentative plans to try to see the rose garden this July, because June is going to be too busy for me to plan anything extra. But it’s a plan, and what I’ve learned is that if we don’t plan, it does not happen.

Ten years since we saw the Irises together, or I saw them at all. My promise to myself is that I’ll remember that while I’m working and doing all this great, amazing writing, that the rest of my life is not on hold. The rest of my life is happening without me. I still don’t know how to balance work and play, but I am trying.

We had lunch on the Hill, the Italian neighborhood here in St. Louis. We ate at Zia’s and the pasta was great. I can recommend the carbanara. It was yummy. I’d forgotten the the Hill has a stop sign on like every corner, so driving the Foose was something of a challenge. Just a few weeks ago, I couldn’t have done it, but today, no problem. I stopped and started all over the place, and even parked the car just fine. Admittedly, I was glad that there was no car behind me so I didn’t have to really parallel park, but still, no problems. When we came out from lunch, there was a couple taking a picture of the Baby with their cell phone.

Debbie remarked on it. I got to reply, "It’s not the first time." It’s still a little weird to have a car that gets that much attention, but I’m getting used to it. In fact, I sort of enjoy it. I like that the Baby gets admired. I love driving this car. It was Jon that hit upon why. When I’ve got half a dozen different things up in the air, and I’m having to wait on other people to do their jobs before I can do mine, and I feel like I can’t control anything, I get in the Foose and I drive. It’s all about the control. I drive the car, and when so much in my life seems uncontrolled, or out of my hands, the Foose is very much in my hands, and I have to be in control to drive it. I’ve actually started looking for reasons to drive the car. Errands have never been so fun, but really, you need to get up to highway speeds to see the Baby at her best. She likes it fast.