Yadayada

Wednesday, April 26, 2006

The grot

Broken swollen soaring feat, searing feet souring fate, trying yet dying to neither the less or to forever remain never.

When I was about 11 I found an acorn on the side of the road. I picked it up and took it home. I planted it an inch down in a pot of moist peat to germinate it as my recently dead grandfather had taught me.

When it sprouted I moved it to a bigger pot. I had a little note book and measured its height and leaf growth. After a month or so it was a sapling – I had nurtured to life an incredible living thing, something that could last a thousand years.

After 2 months it was 4 ½ inches tall and had 6 perfectly formed, light green, trembling oak leaves.

Then I stopped watering it.

One by one the leaves curled up to a crisp brown. The embryo trunk dried to a kindling stick. I left the dead tree in its pot for a month. Then I pulled it out and threw it out of the window. It hit the ground not too distant from where I had found the acorn.

Looking back I only remember one thing about my grandfather’s funeral.

I didn’t cry. I didn’t even feel like it – everyone was weeping. I was in a world of my own, distant away from everyone else’s misery.

Apparently I was too young to understand. Apparently not caring about death means you don’t understand it.

8 Comments:

  • This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.

    By Blogger Zen Wizard, at 6:16 pm  

  • That was my "Delete."

    Good post!

    I was hoping for some gory details about the Canadian chick, but maybe it went so well you don't want to "share."

    By Blogger Zen Wizard, at 6:19 pm  

  • Heh - you crazy unsubtle yanks - that is why we love ya :o)

    Well err.. you can read her account of it here....

    www.methesequel.blogspot.com

    Hmm... how do you do links in comments?

    By Blogger h, at 8:31 pm  

  • Click HERE for your custom tutorial.

    For that matter, Here are some pictures of my sorry ass, and some other stupid shit.

    It is basically the same way you put the Links, e.g., "Stellblog," in your Template, only without the "Li"-things.

    I still can't believe you picked up a woman on the Internet. And one who didn't look like the Crypt Keeper, no less!

    Then you got her to 'Blog about it!

    You da Man!

    I am in Yankee "Vicarious Sex" Heaven!!!

    By Blogger Zen Wizard, at 11:05 pm  

  • She called it, "Shagfest London '06."

    Res ipsa loquitur.

    (God, I KNEW you existed...other Americans doubted you, but...I knew you were there all along...)

    By Blogger Zen Wizard, at 11:13 pm  

  • Mr....er... "Wizard" I have the over-whelming urge to once again cross cyberspace into meatspace to meet you, if only to give you a bit of a slap. I wouldn't though - something tells me you would enjoy that.

    And, I should mention that yes, I do in fact look like the "Crypt Keeper" and have a bit of a hunch back - but my sunny disposition gets me by.

    By Blogger Me:The Sequel, at 2:52 pm  

  • Uh---I'm sure that your sparkling personality....um...more than makes up for it....or something...or your helium-like laugh when you introduce the scary episodes...

    (Sheesh!)

    If you change your mind on the slap, I like black leather gloves.

    (Big Spinal Tap fan!)

    And if you could wear a Nazi uniform and blow smoke in my face, that would be great...

    Do you take MasterCard??

    By Blogger Zen Wizard, at 2:23 am  

  • Hm, hoping the next round of details about the Canadian chick involves her borrowing a sword from Zura and doing something quite gory indeed to rude commenters in meat-space. heh heh heh.

    But there I go being unsubtle. Can't escape it.

    By Blogger Hope E. Ewing, at 5:20 am  

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