Rejoicing over the thornbushes: in which I pick Poison over Lincoln

Note: I began typing this post on June 5.  It was timely at the time.  Indulge me by thinking it is early June and the roses are blooming as you read this.

The last month or so of my life has not gone according to plan.  Given how poor I am about planning the end of the school year and trip preparations (previously mentioned here, and here among other places), and that I am about to embark upon my third trip in a month, this is not terribly surprising.  As I've grumbled about all the things that have gone wrong, from believing that students who put on acts of confidence and competence, to leaving data sheets on the copier (sadly, a time honored tradition in my life), to being nearly washed out of my field site and wondered how it is possible to have student issues, body issues, garden issues, colleague issues, cat issues, stuff issues, computer issues, kid and husband issues, weather issues and garage door issues all at the same time, I've tried to remind myself of the (alleged) Abraham Lincoln quote hanging on my office door, "We can complain that rose bushes have thorns, or rejoice that the thorn bushes have roses."

Not actually a rose.  I guess every thistle has its spines.

And since my roses are blooming, and I want to remain an optimist, it seems apt.

But I have to disagree with Lincoln, or at least with my reading of the Lincoln quote, which suggests it is better to view them as flowering thorn bushes rather than prickly rose bushes.  I really don't want to be in a state in which I think that taking students to a conference*, travelling, having a house and garden, my job or Dianthus and Aster are thorn bushes.  Considering them to be thorn bushes seems to be setting expectations a bit too low, even for me, and somehow diminishes the experience of those who are enduring real thorns, be they my friend whose husband needs a second stem cell transplant, my former colleague who had a massive heart attack the day after graduation (did you even know that they do sextuple by-pass?), my unemployed best friends, or the people whose houses were in the way of the tornadoes. Being unemployed for a year yet loving the extra time for ones babies; that's appreciate the flowers on the thorn bushes.  Having a great, but by no means perfect, job, well, that's a rose bush.  The rose bush has some thorns, but then they all do.  

When you are among the thorn bushes, keep your eyes open for anything to rejoice about.  And, when you enter the rose garden, watch out for the thorns, for every rose has one**.

*Exhausting and expensive. And, no, we don't get paid overtime for taking three undergraduate students to a national conference.  Since this particular conference happened when school is not in session, I didn't get paid at all.

**"Just like every night has its dawn." ????  It's hard for me to take myself seriously when I am about to post  something quoting such a ridiculous poison song.