You got twelve little plants staring at you for several days
now, twelve orphan plants and you’re gonna say – sorry, my back is out? Of
course not. You’re going to get off your high writing horse and pick up that hand
spade and start digging.
But not right away.
I wake up and I say to Ed – today I have bills to pay, a
farmhouse to clean, stuff to plant and a book to write. Which should I do
first?
He says – you’re on a roll. Get writing.
But breakfast is back in the game plan. I’m at my best if we
have a few minutes over a morning meal. So we have the morning meal.
And a quick walk through the flower beds.
And then -- back to my text.
Later, I do break. For an hour. My daughter and I shop the market on Saturdays and this is a routine I wont put aside.
She’s radiant, my girl is. One month to a wedding, the sun’s
shining, market flowers are cheap
and plentiful – she is in that wonderful frame where every color is even more brilliant than it seems.
I can understand that. I visit that frame now and then myself.
She’s off...
...and I return home.
...For a hefty dose of writing. No
Paul’s, no tennis, no bike ride. Just me on the porch with my laptop. No
interruptions.
...Until evening and then the guilt about the little orphan
roses seeps in and back pain or no back pain I decide to give it a go. I’m good
for ten out of twelve little roses. May they thrive.
And now I turn to dinner. It has to include
tomatoes. We’re brimming with them and both Ed and I brought in a new haul this
evening, so tomatoes it is: a salad with five very different types of tomatoes, and, too, eggs, and capers, and blue cheese, and
because I want to make it just a notch special, I open my precious tin of sardines
(yes, sardines) from France. Why anyone would bring back a tin of sardines from
France may puzzle you, but when you're at a market there and vendors are showing off their sardines and they're cheap and in olive oil, you say -- why not. [Question for you: do you know how many sardines there are in this French can of sardines? Answer: Two. Sardine class indeed!]
So life is good. No, better than that: effervescent. And the
sun continues to shine and I’m on an edit now and I already know what my next
book project will be.