Not much rumination lately, but plenty of action. In the past weeks we’ve built a compost bin, installed shelves in the bathroom (there are always more shelves to install), finished mulching our flower beds and, on an ongoing basis, harvested tomatoes and carrots, pulled weeds, and battled the vines and orange-trunked shrubs encroaching on our back fence.
This all, of course, suggests more action: canning tomatoes, filling and turning compost, planting fall crops – maybe even a tree. On gloomier days one might see it as making more work for oneself, but these days have been bright and happy; I’ve been content to spend afternoons outside. Last night, the temperature dropped low enough for us to build a pleasant fire in our fire pit. And the newly renovated house next door, which has sat on the market for over half a year, finally has an owner.
Book-wise I’m about halfway through a rewrite and starting to get a little woo-woo about the significance of symbols and metaphors. The core of the story finally has enough mass that it’s working its gravity on all the disparate pieces, locking some into harmonious orbit (and jettisoning others into the depths of space). I’m close. Closer than I’ve ever been. I’ve learned – almost, I think – what I’ve needed to learn to finish it.
A good feeling. A feeling I wish upon you, in whatever you’re doing.