We’re in the city for the long weekend and it’s a very strange experience. Of course, the weather’s perfect, absolutely gorgeous and bright. The lake would have been just glorious. In the end, it’s probably for the best. Our tomatoes have the starting of what looks like blight, so I’ve got to deal with that today. There’s a lavender pot that I haven’t replanted yet that’s so wilted I’m fearing for its life, and I need to weed like crazy.
I’ve been searching online for how to deal with my poor, sick plants. It seems that weather might be the cause, that or bad seeds, or just too many things planted in the garden (that’s definitely my fault [although the tomato plants have loads of room]). Next year we’ll need to make sure we put the tomatoes in a different place. Although right now it looks like only one or two plants are affected, and so I might just sacrifice those for the health of the rest. I’m afraid the tomatoes won’t be great this year, but we’ve been so lucky with the quality of the zucchini and cucumbers, and the rest of the garden is growing so beautifully, that I’m not too worried. It’s all good learning for next year, right?
What’ll also be good about staying in the city is getting a long, laundry list of things done around the house: cleaning up the outside, clearing away some of the junk from the garage, tidying up, sweeping, all the stuff we never seem to have time to do. Add to that my ‘work,’: the next Classic Starts title, a freelance copy assignment, some leftover editing, the new story, and if I can cloister myself in my office for most of Monday, I should get a great start on all of it.
I’m also so behind in terms of my reading. Usually the summer is when I catch up, long days spent by the lake deep into some giant tome. But instead, I’ve been gardening up a storm, visiting, playing Scrabble, talking with my family, spending time with my nephew, and I feel a little out of sorts. I’m convinced it’s because I can’t actually concentrate on any book with any kind of depth. So, I forced myself out of my rut this morning and finished two stories by Alice Munro, and hopefully I’ll finish Runaway by the end of the weekend. That’ll put me back on track. Right?
Maybe.