“Where no oxen are, the crib is clean . . .

Healthy 4 o'clock flowerstomato plant growing in cage with green, yellow, and red tomatoes

. . . but much increase is by the strength of the ox” (Prov

And what on earth does that have to do with happiness, or indeed with four o’clocks and tomatoes? Just this:  we strive for something, and then when we get it, we complain about its inconveniences. So a poor man of Bible times might say that he really wanted an ox, because then he could get more plowing done, but if he got one, he’d realize pretty quickly that an ox generates quite a bit of . . . mess. Mess that he had to clean up.  There he’d be, raking out the stall (the “crib”) and thinking, “What a pain!”  But when he didn’t have the ox he didn’t have the increased yield from his fields, and his family went hungry sometimes.  There’s a great reference in this week’s podcast from Gretchen Rubin and her sister Elizabeth Craft to this idea.  Elizabeth has a sign in her office that her writing partner put up after the two of them were living out their dream of being TV writers in LA and complaining about its problems:  “It’s a fun job, and I enjoy it.”

So, to drag my poor four o’clocks into yet another post, there’s a shot above of what one plant looks like after I got sick and tired of deadheading them and whacked off all the blossoms and buds.  Do you see it?  A new flower.  As I watered them this morning and saw that I thought, ‘Oh no! I’m going to have to start deadheading them again!’  But I wanted them to grow and bloom.  I nursed them along for months just so they would do that very thing.  I got what I wanted, and now I’m complaining about it.  (I know–there are too many italics in this post.)  Same thing with the tomatoes:  This is the first time (italics alert) in fifteen years that I’ve gotten anything approaching a decent harvest.  And, as I said in the previous post, I’ve really enjoyed slow-roasting a big batch of them.  But they’re still producing.  And my enthusiasm is waning.  I wish they’d just shrivel up  You can see that’s not going to happen any time soon, unless we get a killing frost in the next week.  I’m pleased that I’ve gotten such a good yield, but I’m tired of cleaning out the crib.

So I guess I’ll have to start repeating the mantra above as I deadhead, pick, wash, and roast:  “It’s a fun job, and I enjoy it.”  Or, to quote another bit of Gretchen Rubin wisdom, this time from one of her books and actually said by her husband when she was complaining about a snide comment (I think) on her blog:  “Remember, you wanted this.”  Think of all the times this statement would fit the bill, all the times when you didn’t quite realize how much work and anxiety that much-anticipated and much-desired result would bring in its wake.  And then . . . well, try to imagine life without it, or him, or her, or them.  Whatever.  I’m going to try to take my own advice tomorrow morning.