I used to be one of those Nancy Drew, game of Clue, Sherlock Holmes loving kind of girls.  Now I am so damn sick of mysteries I would beg never to have to waste another second trying to incessantly figure everything out.  I read enough about Buddhism to understand control is an illusion, but it’s still annoying how ofter there are times it seems everyone and everything I come across would appear to want to underscore that reality ad nauseam.

Who killed the chicks?  What’s consuming entire full-grown plants of basil overnight?  Why are the fire ants swarming all over the okra and nothing else?  How can one tomato plant be thriving while those of the same variety on either side of it are long since dead?  Where can I hear some truth that works in practice and not just in theory?  Who is John Galt?

How often I am hearing different versions of the same mysterious stories.  For even the simplest answers I’m seeking I find a good half-dozen contradictory solutions.  So obviously, for the complicated topics, the misinformation overload is overwhelming.

Of these complicated topics one recurring subject is the meaning of organic.  In my quest for an organic garden (a goal which failed within two weeks), I called Monterey Mushrooms to learn about their mushroom compost, aka SMS, spent mushroom substrate.  When I inquire if the product is organic, the girl answers in a heavy drawl, “Whatcha meeeeen?”

Momentarily stumped, I pause, offering a friendly, “Ummm, well . . .”

“I can tell ya what’s in it, if you’ll even know what any of it is,” she offers.

“Sure, give it a shot,” I reply.  I’m feeling pretty confident because I’ve been reading up.

“Gypsum, chicken litter, cottonseed meal, soybean oil, straw, . . .” And I’m thinkin, hey, so far so good.

“Urea.”  Op, stop there.

This word can be used to describe both an organic and a chemical compound, and, my little brain churning, in order to separate the urea from the urine requires it be chemically processed, right?  So, that means it’s not organic.  Right?

And then that question leads to another, and yet another, and then a whole series of questions about organics.  What if the seeds I’m using aren’t organic?  What if the chicken producing the litter was not eating organic feed (which we can be quite certain it was not)?  What about the pesticides that went on the soybeans and cottonseed and Bermuda grass?   What if I’m watering my garden from treated water, because it’s ALL treated?  And even if I could irrigate solely through rainwater, What about Acid Rain?!

Oh my, please stop! It is all really too much.  Thank heavens it’s 4th of July so I can drown these burgeoning mysteries in that all-American of southern drinks, the Margarita.  The path to a good buzz, at least, is never a mystery.