My (Current) Last Master Gardener Meeting

Earlier this week, after a great deal of discernment, I'd made up my mind to put my master gardener membership on ice. What does that mean? I wouldn't pay my dues and I'm no longer a "certified" master gardener. If I re-join do I have to start over? I don't know. I haven't wanted to explore that yet. But I will.

It wasn't the dues money that made the decision. I can figure out how to scrape up $25 if I need to. The truth is, I'm distracted. Other aspects of life getting the best of us. And, I'm not my best self. I don't want do something else intentionally for the sake of doing it. I love the master gardener community. I love the education. But I don't want to commit to events three months down the line. I just don't. That's where I am. 

I went to Thursday's master gardener meeting as a way to "complete" my time. I wanted to say hello to everyone, one last time. Plus, our past-president had an interesting talk on worm gardening! Truly, a garden is about growing fertile soil and cultivating plants. Worms are good. Mostly. Good stuff. 

My pal, Joy, drove (I hadn't told her this would be my last meeting.) and we arrived a few minutes late. I found a seat in the back and settled in to learn about the different soil preferences between night crawlers and red wigglers. After the presentation, the treasurer stood up to give her report. Instead of her usual report saying, "this is how much money we have," she pointed to ME and waggled her finger. Calling me by name, she said to the group of thirty, "You haven't paid your dues. They are due now." 

I'm pleased to say living in the South for the past four years made a difference. I'm also pleased a bail go fund me wasn't needed because I did not throw out my real thoughts. I did say something along the lines of, "Unless you are going to wag your finger at everyone else and publicly call out the rest of those who haven't paid their dues, I suggest you move on." People laughed that uncomfortable laugh when they see something awkward. To her credit, the treasurer looked astonished, shut up and sat down. 

I know someone else would probably offer to pay my dues. I don't want that. Though it hadn't been about the money, the treasurer's lack of decorum sure did a number on my psyche. Marty's unemployment is taking its toll in many ways. However, I don't want sympathy or charity. I do want dignity. 

I sent a note this morning to our fearless leader. I told him the truth: I'm distracted. I asked how the reinstatement process works because I'd really like to revisit this if Marty decides we'll be staying in Texarkana.