There was a fair amount of writing going on this week. Unfortunately, it has also been a very unsettling week, with a lack of a certain kind of focus. I did spend a lot of time on query letter, synopsis, and first thirty pages of the WIP. I was able to dive into that fantasy world without too much trouble.
Reality world was a bit overwhelming, however, so other writing, thinking, planning, doing, was quite unfocused. I sat down Saturday, as usual, to write my (late) confession, and couldn’t pull it together. Tried again, later in the day, couldn’t do it. This evening, I stopped pushing and pulling. I went out in the garden and listened to the water trickling into the pond. I walked around and looked at all of the plants (domestic and otherwise) having their way with my back yard. I took deep breaths, shook out the kinks in my hands, and took a few photos. I am not going to write any more today, when normally I would take advantage of the very quiet house. I am going to share these pictures, and…
Of course I wanted these plants to spill over the bricks and onto the path.
Yes, these too. all part of the master plan.
It is good I didn’t get around to buying tomato plants this year. The strawberries obviously had other ideas for that space.
Pond? What pond. Looks like a thyme patch to me.
Don’t worry. We can just climb over the flowers that are growing in the middle of the path at the gate.
Creeping thyme is supposed to be walked on. It doesn’t matter that there is a flagstone path there. Somewhere.
Relax. Nobody uses that back gate anyway. Let the larkspur just grow in the path.
Right. The garden is doing just fine on its own. Tomorrow is another day for writing. I am going to grab that mystery and a mug of chai, and climb into bed. It feels quite nice, being lenient with me.
