Page 59 of Through Quick and Quinn
“So I’m thinking I’ll do the Perimeter Challenge. Wanna do it with me?” I asked. She hadn’t heard of it before, so I explained that it meant to only eat foods found at the perimeter of the grocery store. Produce. Proteins. Dairy. It wasn’t fail-proof, but avoiding the processed crap in the center aisles had to be a massive improvement.
“I’m in!” she exclaimed as she grabbed another pineapple cube.
Sure enough, we both took the Perimeter Challenge that summer. It became a habit pretty quickly, and it didn’t stop there. We had to go all in, of course, and before we knew it, we were starting our own miniature garden in pots under the patio shade on her front porch. She got a little emotional at first, especially when we planted the food scrap green onions, but she pushed through. Even though the green onions turned out to be the ones she attended to the most, the radishes from seeds were the most successful. We had romaine lettuce, cherry tomatoes, celery, and white onions growing a bit, too.
We kept our garden going all summer long and into the fall. We watered the plants and pruned them when needed, and Quinn sang them songs because she was convinced that it helped them grow. I suggested we do an experiment and only sing to some of them, but she thought that was “super mean” to purposefully cripple certain plants like that. Besides, she knew there was plenty of research to support her claim, so she serenaded our crops daily.
To say we ate from our garden would be a bit of an overstatement. We’d nibble on radishes and such, but really, not much grows in the heat of the desert. The whole thing was more about spending time together. Every single day, sometimes for ten minutes and sometimes for two hours, we hung out on the porch. It was always the highlight of the day.
Well, at least for me anyway.
Monday, July 22, 2024
Note to self:
I can’t believe it’s been nine years since Troy passed away. Wow. It really is hard to wrap my brain around.
I sat outside by the Zen garden for hours today, raking the sand and enjoying the peaceful privacy. I’ve become so comfortable talking aloud to Troy when I’m out there. I tell him about my days or I process my thoughts as though he’s physically there with me, kinda like how Quick writes to Geoffrey, I guess.
At first, I chatted with him about the situation with Mandy, and it felt like he helped me make a decision: I’ll take her up on the next invitation if she asks again, because how could it hurt? It’s like Mandela says, “May your choices reflect your hopes, not your fears.” I hope she has good intentions, so I’m going to go with that.
I then unloaded all of my feelings regarding our mother. Through my monologue, I told Troy about how much I miss talking to her but how hard it’s been lately because of her overbearing pressure to study harder for placement exams, apply for schools, decide on a major, et cetera et cetera. It has dominated every conversation for months now, which is so sad. I hate that my final years of childhood and possibly the last years of living with her are clouded with arguments. It really sucks. But I did feel better after processing it in the Zen garden, and again, I felt like he helped me to decide on my next step: to talk to Dad.
So that’s what I did. I waited until Mom was in the shower and then I plopped myself down next to him on the couch. He immediately paused the television and wholeheartedly listened to my every word. I explained to him how hard it is to keep butting heads with Mom, but that I’m not entirely sure I want to take the typical path that she has laid out for me. I don’t know if I want to do the whole four-year university thing, and I’m definitely not ready to commit to a major. I understand that she is coming from a place of love, that she just wants to make sure I’m successful and happy, but I don’t know how to make her understand where I am coming from.
Dad told me that success is defined by the individual, and that they support whatever I decide to do, so long as I am making forward progress. Everything he said made a lot of sense, especially when he explained that the reason Mom is so intent on this plan is because I haven’t presented an alternative. He said that if she knew what I wanted to do instead, she would then support me in that way. I told him that I don’t really know what that alternative is yet, but I guess I have my senior year to figure that out.
I feel so much better now. I know I’ll find my way. And it’s okay if the path changes as I go, so long as I’m growing as a person and my choices reflect my hope to help others.
Senior year, here I come!
…Q
?Part Three:
?Seek & Speak
***
Quinn / 6:26 p.m.
Hey, how was your first day?
I still cannot believe it’s our last year!
Quick / 6:27 p.m.
pretty good
I feel like I have a bunch of cake classes this year
you?
6:27 p.m.
I’m looking forward to Government class.
I agree, I think the workload will go way down this year.
