weeding

Out of the Attic and into the Garden

Ah, novel rewriting, what a treat. If you’ve not enjoyed the process, may I suggest not having most of the action in your book take place in an attic? As I sat in the corner of the library, typing, fixing, adding, and cutting to get this novel even better than it was, I swear I developed claustrophobia.

I’m tearing myself out of that mindset by digging dirt. The first spring after started the no till garden idea? Clear delineation of where I was able to use the garden weasel to rid the area of dandelions by the root vs. where the cages were and I could not weed. Seeing that I didn’t have as much work as I thought I’d have, I went to a nursery to buy plants and zap – randomly ran into fellow WNY writer, Christina Abt.

Zucchini, yellow squash, cucumbers, bush beans, peas, jalapeno, and green pepper plants are in the ground and -knock on wood- semi-slug protected by copper. The twelve holes for the Roma and Heinz tomato plants are dug and after dinner tonight, I could be done with the planting. Yesterday, I made thirty-two thin pancakes for the enchiladas. I made a big tin of fudge nut bars that need to be cut. With proper portioning and freezing, this is how I am buying future time.

Time runs faster once June hits. I might be camping in the Alleghenies with Kim Chinquee and Nancy McCabe in a few weeks. I might be weeding. I look forward to popping in to spend time with Rina Fosati again soon. If Husband and I make it to 7pm, we’ll have been married 24 years today. A new riding lawnmower may be our mutual anniversary gift, which you must admit beats the hell out of the sump pump we went and bought on my birthday a few years back. I’ve had some nice rejections, does this precede acceptances in the coming days? Only the flowers know.

White peony in bloom, trees in sunlight in background

Speaking of flowers, did I mention “Blooming” made it into Litmora’s third issue? This flash is how “Near Eden, New York,” a previous novel I wrote, begins. Gooseberry Pie did me a solid by including “Hearts Compounded” in its 12th issue. Do check out other pieces from the one – or a previous issue. Six sentences? Come on, you have time to read one or two, don’t you?

Reading is an exercise I’ve been doing less than Pilates these days. Sometimes a break from words is needed, so I’m taking a short one to enjoy my day.

Please enjoy the day you’re having. Thank you so much for stopping by and for the read!

Cheers!

I was Vanderwalkered in a Schoolhouse

I’m still catching up on the laundry from the family reunion in Essex over the fourth. I think it was Angela who summed it up best for all of us who aren’t blood related:

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“Champy,” the monster of Lake Champlain, was spotted and photographed.

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I tried to visit the library in Essex–which is right beside a creek, like mine is–but it had funky hours.

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We also toured Edward Cornell’s Art Farm.

Last night, as I was speeding down old 219 toward home after the “Donut Hole” rehearsal and a B.o.b. campaign meeting, three banging songs came on the radio–all in a row. “Love the Way You Lie” by Eminem and Rihanna, “Come With Me Now” by the Kongos, and “Personal Jesus” by Depeche Mode. Different channels, but still. Anyways, careening around those curves at dusk, volume up, I was in control–but going too fast. It flashed that this is the way my life is going right now and I couldn’t be more delighted.

I’m juggling a lot of things and if I blink, I’ll have added a new chainsaw to the rotation. If you ask if it’s too much, I’ll tell you I’m fine. I am. I know this will peter out or a crash will happen, but until then, I’m “alive” in a way I haven’t been in a while.

I have the 10 minute play by Donna Hoke I’m directing which is going well, but that’s over on Saturday. The campaign didn’t raise enough funds so the Iowa trip has been delayed. I’m preparing the second round of questions for Beth Gilstrap‘s interview for The Tavern about her book, I Am Barbarella. I participated in a writing “joust” and had a ton of fun with that. I’m cranking out new flash pieces since being invited into the “Hot Pants” office in Zoetrope, plus writing a new book in 20 page increments. The garden is weeded and if the rain stops, I’ll get the weedeater going.

Right, so I should be getting on with it. Maintaining swiftness and busyness is a temporary thing, but while it’s going on, I am enamored with that sense of power over my own life. Yes, I know that’s delusional, but it is a nice delusion to have.

 

(These are my creekside reflections. Your experiences may vary.)