Your suggestion about beginning with a date reminds me that one of the most famous novels ever begins with a date: "1801." I wonder if Emily Bronte couldn't think of where to begin ... :)
Today I got frustrated, got up and went to the garden to tie the tomatoes (some now 7 feet high) and do a little weeding. A little. Ha. I was out until dark. Six hours.
I was shocked at how I had neglected it, as I often do near the end, when I figure the season is about over. Why? Why do I lose interest? Or lose the rhythm, the thread, the realization that it takes work every day, not in bursts.
But here is what I discovered: a mouse nest--with mouse. A giant wolf spider that did Not bite me, several volunteer new shoots of dill and cilantro. And there, in one neglected end of a row, in amongst the weeds, was a small patch of young hearty beets. Now weeded. And watered. Looking almost like spring.
I think I just lose concentration, want to move on to new things. Stamina. Daily tending. New shoots.
It felt good. I ate a carrot and watched the sun hide behind the mountains and turn the world gold-orange-red-pink-lavender-purple.
When I was teaching English and teaching Wuthering Heights, I spent a whole class on 1801. This after a student asked why I'd set aside three weeks for the novel. At the end of that first class, I said, See, we spent a whole class on the first word; at this rate it will take us 1000 years (more, actually).
Hi Alison,
Your suggestion about beginning with a date reminds me that one of the most famous novels ever begins with a date: "1801." I wonder if Emily Bronte couldn't think of where to begin ... :)
Sheldon
Today I got frustrated, got up and went to the garden to tie the tomatoes (some now 7 feet high) and do a little weeding. A little. Ha. I was out until dark. Six hours.
I was shocked at how I had neglected it, as I often do near the end, when I figure the season is about over. Why? Why do I lose interest? Or lose the rhythm, the thread, the realization that it takes work every day, not in bursts.
But here is what I discovered: a mouse nest--with mouse. A giant wolf spider that did Not bite me, several volunteer new shoots of dill and cilantro. And there, in one neglected end of a row, in amongst the weeds, was a small patch of young hearty beets. Now weeded. And watered. Looking almost like spring.
I think I just lose concentration, want to move on to new things. Stamina. Daily tending. New shoots.
It felt good. I ate a carrot and watched the sun hide behind the mountains and turn the world gold-orange-red-pink-lavender-purple.
When I was teaching English and teaching Wuthering Heights, I spent a whole class on 1801. This after a student asked why I'd set aside three weeks for the novel. At the end of that first class, I said, See, we spent a whole class on the first word; at this rate it will take us 1000 years (more, actually).
That is an amazing photo - good for you, Alison!!!!!!!!!!!
I'm a techno-idiot - where is the prompt thread?