The sky this morning is gray, and rain fell during the night. It’s still raining, I suspect, judging by the sweet scent coming in through the open door in our bedroom. It looks much like most of last month looked out there, but it is decidedly different. This particular gray morning comes on the heels
I pull a bag of fish fins and assorted parts from the freezer. I’ve been saving them since last summer when Gerry returned from his annual salmon fishing trip. We work together when my (not so) old man returns from the sea to fillet fish, tuck little packages in the freezer, and stuff some in
I spend a couple of hours in the garden, pondering, imagining, making decisions, and tossing tiny seeds in the ground. I’m toting tomato and pepper plants outside every day and bringing them back in the house in the early evening. There are seed packets in my purse, and basil growing in my laundry room. These,
I spend a silent and solitary day at home: writing, reading, potting flowers, staking tomatoes, and watering plants. But it is that moment when I’m standing barefoot on the grass in the backyard watering the tea garden and breathing in the gentle scent of lilacs that is, perhaps, the sweetest. I drop the hose, walk
It seems like spring is late. That is, of course, not the case. Spring, and everything else, is unfolding as it should. My challenge is to let go, lean in, and live and love well. I’m not all that good at these things, but I keep trying We spend a few hours in the yard.
I sequester myself in the woman cave and write every morning. I’m in the zone, words flow, it’s wonderful. One afternoon we run errands and it’s sunny and warm. We’re on the way to the green grocer and I say that it’s almost time for iced capps. Gerry abruptly turns left into the Tim Hortons
For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven. Ecclesiastes 3:1 I chop Swiss chard, picked from the garden an hour ago. And tomatoes, assorted heirlooms that have been ripening on the countertop in the laundry room for weeks—sorted through every few days, the ripe ones chopped and used in