Freckles on my face
Figures. I go on and on about how much I’ve been thinking and musing and subconsciously crafting le livre, and then spring, well, springs and the whole thing goes down the toilet. Instead of being a dedicated writer, I’ve been a devoted gardener and general yard worker. The spouse and I have spent the entire Memorial Day weekend being outside, and, to my utter surprise, I have loved every second of it. We built three raised beds for vegetable gardening, planted marigolds by our porch, potted some bamboo shoots friends gave us awhile ago, and transplanted some tomato seedlings for spouse’s mother. I have a rockin’ farmer’s tan, more freckles on my face than I had on Friday, and utter contentment in my life. I’ve barely turned on my computer all weekend and when I did, it was just to look up gardening blogs and information about our hardiness zone. (I’m in Zone 6, if you’re interested.) This evening, when my outdoor work was done, I sat down at my desk to start writing and then popped back up, remembering that there were very mushy bananas in the kitchen that would be perfect in loaf form.
And instead of feeling the stress I usually do when I haven’t written for awhile, I feel very unconcerned. I think it’s because I know the book is getting close to done. Maybe I’m just trying to prolong it. Maybe I’m terrified of sending query letters and being rejected by agents.
But maybe it’s just because it’s a beautiful May evening and all I want to do is read Animal, Vegetable, Miracle and eat banana bread and sip sweet iced tea. I’ll get back to writing tomorrow night…
