HOME    text version of navigation bar

GROWING SPACE continued

But, my mom came over from the farm one night and helped us re-pot it. She poured a small bag of white rock into the bottom of the pot, which looked huge at the time. It took three big bags of potting soil to fill it up.

"And, you haven't done anything to it since then?" Liz asked again.

"Not really," I replied. "Just added some soil once in awhile, watered it regularly and kept turning it every so often to give each branch a chance at the sun."

It was March 31, 1994, the day I retired from my job. After 28 years with the same organization and 17 years with the same weeping fig tree providing a softer touch to my office, I had no feeling of remorse or loss. I was intent in building a second career with a little more breathing space for myself.

I had thought about transferring the fig tree to the new home Pam, my wife, and I had built in 1985, but somehow we never found the right spot for it. By that time, it was six feet tall and had branches spanning a diameter of more than five feet. It would have been difficult to move.

[Continued On Next Page: Click Here]

Stories From Our Visitors

text version of navigation bar

[ Break Out Home | Contents | Search | Post ]

Send mail to jhasse@jvlnet.com with questions or comments about this web site.
Copyright © 1998 - 2004 Hasse Communication Counseling. All rights reserved.