Thank Goodness for Little Orange Things
- Dear Friends,
It's been a challenging few months for me, to say the least.
I had a five hour spinal fusion back surgery on June 26th.
The very next day, intent upon setting a record (and making
my own ridiculous courageous statement), I left the hospital
(in great pain) and went home to begin my recovery. Normal
hospital stay should have been three days.
Last week, I learned (after a CAT scan) that the surgery
did not work and that a second surgery would be required.
I've been told that a large piece of cadaver bone will
be necessary to repair the damage from my original injury.
In the meantime, I've learned just how easy it is to become
addicted to pain killing pills.
At about the same time, my father took a serious fall and
fractured two ribs. One complication led to another, and
a few hospital screw-ups compounded his compound fracture,
and I sat alone by my dad's bedside at 3:30 one recent morning
and watched him die.
This is the time of year that leaves fall from trees and
the last bits of summer's crops (pumpkins, cabbage, brussels
sprouts) ere harvested from my own garden. It is a time for
the flowers to die and other plants to turn brown and wilt,
littering the ground with an abundance of seeds. This is a
cold and dark time of the year, and for me, the blacks and
greys and browns of winter make for a depressing season.
That is why any glimmer of color, of sunshine, of rainbow
colors help to cure the darkness of late fall and early winter.
On the Sunday after Thanksgiving, I received a telephone call
from one of my favorite ortganic farmers, Dave Fedor. Dave
grows many varieties of oranges including Satsumas, Navels,
and Kumquats in his small Florida grove. Each year, for the past
five, I've purchased two or more boxes of the sweetest produce
that beats anything found in my local supermarkets.
This year, the oranges mean much more than just nourishment
to me. They represent a cure for the darkness. They are a medicine
for my body which seeks more than one traditional form of healing.
I congratulated Dave on getting through the past few months
without any hurricanes, and asked if he anticipated a more
abundant crop. Unfortunately, I was told that two late
February frosts destroyed many of his tree's delicate
orange blossoms, so that this year's crop will be smaller
than last, but should be sweeter. The fruit will not be
ready to be shipped until around the tenth of December. It
will be picked by Dave and his family the day before, at
the height of sweetness, boxed, then shipped direct to me...
to you...to your friends and loved ones.
For those of you who got shut out last year, here is the chance
to make up for it. Don't delay. Order today, as I just did.
Call: 1-386-985-1654 or go online:
Best wishes to you all!
I count my blessings for each of my relationships with
friends and loved ones, past, present, and future.
I count my blessings for my father's life, for he knew
what it was to live a full life.
I count my blessings for the ability to enjoy the
sights and sounds and tastes and smells that make
life so magical.