May 2017

An Accidental Mentor

Photo of a white dog

Every summer, I came home from the school for the blind that I attended during the year. I looked forward to the end of school. I looked forward to going home and seeing my mother. I wasn’t excited about the new baby sitter (yes, today they are child care providers, but this was the sixties); I always got to train a new one. The first one I remember was Jeanie. She lived with us.


Photo of flowers

Every April, since I bought my house in Janesville, the same amazing thing happens in my driveway. Now, let me preface with the fact (preposterously well documented) that I am not good with plants. It has often been said that plants come to my house when they are ready to turn brown and die. My wife is a better gardener, but she’d rather look at them than do the work they require. On the other hand, weeds do exceedingly well. I can raise a great crop of dandelions, thistles, every kind of climbing vine that can take apart a fence, and everything else that any garden would rather do without. Bushes and trees are generally safe, although I did lose my shade tree to the Emerald Ash Borer a few years ago, so my arboreal reputation may be in doubt.