Grit Blogs > Another Kind of Drew

Finding Better Seeds: The Acres Have Been Anything But Idle

A photo of Drew Odom     I ask not for a larger garden, but for finer seeds. – Russell H. Conwell

Many have asked where we have been; Pan and I. We haven’t gone far really. We’ve been enveloped in life as it has happened all around us. Since my last post I have put a few other things up but nothing of dire consequence and nothing more than therapeutic blog posts really. June was a busy a month bringing about another birthday for myself, the passing of my dear Granny Dot, the visitations of all my siblings and their families, mornings in the fields and evenings in the gardens, days spent in the kitchen trying to make sense of it all, and quiet times investing in my wife and our relationship. It has been good and it has been bad, all at once. But it has been life.

I have become more aware with each passing day what I value and what I find trivial; what I want and what I could do without. I have latched on to relationships I had been ignoring and let go of the death grip I had on some toxic people that were lingering for sheer nostalgia sake. And I came across a quote that summed my entire heart up.

Russell Conwell was the son of Yankee, Massachusetts, farmers. He fought for the Union Army in the Civil War. He attended Yale University. He was a Baptist Minister and a practicing attorney. And most importantly he was the founder of what is now Temple University. As one can imagine he was a fantastic orator having penned several memorable lectures and sermons and authoring even more well known quotes. But perhaps none so beautiful as the one above.

In my life I have made mistakes, and I have been redeemed. I have been greedy, and I have been broke. I have held thousands of dollars, and I have begged for change. But now I sit comfortably at a place I am proud of. I am wealthy though I have no more money than I did year ago. I have dreams, but I am grounded in reality. In essence, I would love a bigger garden. But I am perfectly happy with just having finer seeds.

My grandmother? An heirloom seed indeed. She produced blooms and flowers unparalleled in my book. My wife? An organic gem cracking open with purity and wholesomeness. My parents – hearty and strong – are seeds that have taken time to germinate but have become all the more rewarding because of it. And me? Well, I cringe to say it but do so with honesty; a GM seed. Not born into this whole gardening scene and certainly not raised with dirt under my nails but capable of adapting to the land and the surrounding and ultimately bringing about a crop and a sustenance, nonetheless.

So where have we been? Well, we’ve been right here the whole time.