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Abstract

uddenly it’s time for a soak in the hot tub, maybe a gummy to take the edge off my aching back from bending over the blueberry bushes this afternoon, and now I’m completely toast (with no avocado).</p><p id="e32c">So, tomorrow, I promise, I’ll send up a wonderful essay that will go viral virtually immediately. You’ll love it. Oh, wait, tomorrow I have to water the garden and help a friend move…. Sigh. But soon. <i>Really</i>.</p><figure id="a006"><img src="https://cdn-images-1.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:800/1*6rz-90BUB9onuOSK73gEQA.jpeg"><figcaption>Author’s garden (most of it) in early spring.</figcaption></figure><figure id="d147"><img src="https://cdn-images-1.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:800/1*A_NfMeZHp2EJf15YCWIIZw.jpeg"><figcaption>Author’s garden today</figcaption></figure><p id="5499">And here’s what led up to all this, as it does every year… I’m so screwed.</p><div id="3aef" class="link-block"> <a href="https://readmedium.com/my-sentie

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nt-winter-garden-cd914f6b0a3f"> <div> <div> <h2>My Sentient Winter Garden</h2> <div><h3>They’re waiting for me out there!</h3></div> <div><p>medium.com</p></div> </div> <div> <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/1*FKW-iU-unKgoloHCHXoP5w.jpeg)"></div> </div> </div> </a> </div><p id="dcdf">Thanks for reading! And please stay tuned for more ways to forgive yourself for not writing.</p><p id="99d9">I just have to collect the raspberries now, and any remaining strawberries that my gracious slugs left for my breakfast in the morning, and I’ll need a little cilantro for the risotto tonight… Aiiii-eeeeeeeeeeee!!!</p><p id="6382"><a href="undefined">Shadowgnosis</a>, <a href="undefined">Linda OBrien</a>, <a href="undefined">Cooking at Home</a></p></article></body>

How to Make Excuses for Not Writing

Or, how my garden rules/ruins my writerly life

Today, all I wanted to do was write a personal essay and post it here. Sure, no problem! All I have to do first is water the garden, pull a few garlic bulbs, check the turnips (oh no, they’re ready to harvest!), trim the Swiss chard that’s grown into a 10-foot monster, wrestle the hops vines back onto their hopsichords, redirect the pumpkin vines away from the tomatoes, collect and cook artichokes and then dig out their little hearts, put in jars, cover in oil, put in canner…

Well, you can see where this is going. Add to that a 25-lb harvest (clean, chop, freeze) of the butt-kicking-est rhubarb you ever imagined, and suddenly it’s time for a soak in the hot tub, maybe a gummy to take the edge off my aching back from bending over the blueberry bushes this afternoon, and now I’m completely toast (with no avocado).

So, tomorrow, I promise, I’ll send up a wonderful essay that will go viral virtually immediately. You’ll love it. Oh, wait, tomorrow I have to water the garden and help a friend move…. Sigh. But soon. Really.

Author’s garden (most of it) in early spring.

And here’s what led up to all this, as it does every year… I’m so screwed.

My Sentient Winter Garden

They’re waiting for me out there!

medium.com

Thanks for reading! And please stay tuned for more ways to forgive yourself for not writing.

I just have to collect the raspberries now, and any remaining strawberries that my gracious slugs left for my breakfast in the morning, and I’ll need a little cilantro for the risotto tonight… Aiiii-eeeeeeeeeeee!!!

Shadowgnosis, Linda OBrien, Cooking at Home