Root Hacking

In my gardening compulsions, I tend to find roots to be the most fascinating part of any plant. In harvesting, I have been known to ruin the coveted parts of the plant for the sake of seeing their roots. Just curious, Boss. . .

I especially love to uncover tree roots. When I take down a tree, I take it down by the roots. Yea, I know there are more efficient ways to take down a tree and a tree stump isn't that much of a scar on the land, but. . . I'm on an adventure. Get your work ethics off of my compulsion. I've been told I look a bit dangerous when I am digging on my tree roots. Don't let the axe give you the wrong idea.

The past two days have found me committing maple-cide on a youngish maple tree which is growing too close to the lab work area. Her roots are magnifient. I haven't followed them too far outward. Just far enough to be able to cut them below the ground. Enough of the roots are cut that she now wobbles when I push on her. Only one or a few roots left to cut.

I sure do get lost in metaphor while I am hacking at tree roots. Proof unavailable, but I believe it is where I have done my most productive proccessing of the dysfunctional family dynamics which I was born to and the myriad of ways I have passed them on my own off-spring and on to their on-going presence in my river dreams, with its ongoing question of, "Is there life after motherhood?"

I find myself grateful that I gave myself a full month to prepare myself for visit to the family homestead. My birth family dynamics didn't have room for me to "go home" when I was young, but I imagine this is a bit like what it feels like for a Prodigal Child. Is there such a thing as a Prodigal Mother? Does she get dirty laundry in place of the fatted lambs?