Photo: It’s the largest harvest from our garden yet! Took two trips for me to bring it in and I know that I’ll get another ten or twelve tomorrow! They don’t look terribly big, I know, but they are packed with flavor. Gardening is, surprising, the most wonderful addition to our lives since moving in the house.
It’s another late Friday, and I’m sitting here with a blank blog screen and a blank brain. I am thinking to myself, I know that things happened this week and I know that I learned a lesson somewhere, but for the life of me, the simple act of getting to this chair in this (finally) quiet house is enough for my brain to say, “hey. You too. You should be quiet, too.”
The cooling off of the area certainly did a lot for us as a family. No longer faced with oppressive humidity and exhausting heat, not to mention the need to duck and dive into air conditioned spaces or various cool spots, we were able to slow down and take a breather. I woke up yesterday morning with the sole mission of watering our thirsty plants (but not our brown, patchy yard) and opening every single window in this house. Old air out, new air in.
The boys thanked me for it in their own ways. A little less whining, a little more running around outside, a little less demanding, a little more helpful hands. We walked over to our neglected garden and found a bounty of tomatoes screaming to be picked.
“What are we going to do with them?” Major asked in awe.
“Can I eat some?” Minor asked.
As you can see from the picture, it is… too much. And there are so many more still ripening on the vine. And we got a bunch from our CSA this week, too! My Joy of Cooking has a few tomato sauce recipes in it so… I’m going to purchase some mason jars tomorrow, along with some celery, onion and garlic. I’ll take notes as I go and hopefully have some pictures on Monday.
When handing some tomatoes to Major to help me bring them into the house (I need a harvest basket or something… or maybe I should just plan to harvest instead of being taken by surprise), he counted them in his arms and told me how many he could handle.
“I have three in this arm already, and I think I can take four more. That makes seven, Mommy! Give me four more so that I can carry seven tomatoes!”
When he isn’t driving me bonkers, he’s taking my breath away.
Minor, of course, wanted to be part of it too, so he asked me for two tomatoes. He promptly dropped one on his way back to the house, taking a bite of the one he kept. Lordy.
I gathered some basil and some oregano, too (one of my bully tomato plants has all but run the oregano out of the bed. Poor thing…) and used them to make pizza last night. The boys barely noticed the super-fresh herbs, the little chunks of tomato swimming in the melted cheese, but I loved every bite and ate too much.
Two little highlights that stand out brightly against the other stuff; the battles, the headaches, the circular conversations that add gray hair to the temples. I had no less than four conversations with other moms in my circle this week, and we all concluded the same thing: they’re sick of us, we’re sick of them, it’s time for them to go back!
They will. We will make it. We’re all exhausted and ready.
But tonight the farmhouse is cool and breezy, my hair is down, and the crickets are singing. Victories counted on one hand are still victories, Dear Reader. You’ve got some too, I’m sure.
I did finish my draft, by the way. That small project that I’m working on with my sister clocked in at a little over 11,000 words and it came in almost a week before deadline. I could not be more pleased. It’s still a first draft, with many wrinkles to smooth out, but I’m very happy with the bones of it. It’s going to be something wonderful. It’s also a fantastic reminder of how much I’ve grown as a writer in these last few years: I used to be that novice writer who couldn’t start a project and finish it. I couldn’t see beyond my mistakes, or keep myself interested through middles… and here I am, yet another full story under my belt, and I’m excited about editing it and really bringing it to life. I’ll give you more details as soon as I am able.
But think about all the whining that I did this month about little boys and all their challenges. For all my lost time, I still managed to start and finish a story before deadline. Remind me of this next time I put up a serious of posts saying the world is ending.
What were you able to accomplish this week, Dear Reader? What are the hard won victories that you can count on just one hand? I hope that you focus more on what you were able to get done, rather than the few things you left undone.
There is will be full moon tomorrow, Dear Reader. Tonight, it’s bright and beautiful, throwing shadows across our yard. The crickets sing and chirp, letting us know that summer isn’t over yet. There is a breeze that blows gently, smelling of grass and herbs and summer things. The commercials would have us believe that it’s time to pack it all in and break out the pumpkins, but we know better, Dear Reader. I wish you summer moments, hot enough and powerful enough to roar back to you later… when the world is covered in white again. Run at full speed, put grass stains in your favorite denim that will never come out, throw yourself at something and do it until you simply cannot anymore. I wish you veggies so fresh, food so well prepared that you’ll dream about it later, when soup simply won’t do anymore. I wish you laughter so full and loud that you’ll be able to hear it when cold winds blow through the evergreens. I wish you a story told so powerfully it’ll give you goosebumps next to a roaring fire. I wish you a hug and kiss so tender they’ll melt the inches a few weeks early. I wish you time to linger outside even after the sun has set, knowing that someone, somewhere is thinking of you and sending their love in your direction. Near or far, Dear Reader, you are held reverently in someone’s heart and you are worthy of that love because you are wonderful.
Happy Friday, Dear Reader.
Until Monday, Take Care.