Less, Better

I’ve got the window of my office wide open for the spring breeze and smell—turned loam, grass, and the faintest whiff of wood smoke. Maddie Rose has the right idea as she stretches out across the loveseat, the sunlight heating her underbelly. Again, I envy her. But Zoie, our elder cat, has moved to the bench by the open window to study bird flights.

I’ve tended my houseplants and taken the vegetables out of the greenhouse to enjoy the morning light. The sun is soaking my house with heat and the only thing that comes to mind is: Ahhh. Spring. Thank goodness and blue stockings.

I’ve had a shot in the arm over the weekend, buying tomatoes, cabbage, broccoli, and herbs for the garden, though that meant jostling through crowds of other garden-starved people packing the nursery. The place looked like a kicked up ant hill.

I love watching people, but never so much as at nurseries and restaurants. I love to see what everyone else picks out and how they put things together. I try to figure out why, too. Which is another form of the great story question: What if? And the conversations. What wonderful rich sources.

And what a sight for winter-dulled eyes. Petunias and geraniums in a sea of purples and pinks. I know how it feels to overdose. It was all I could do not to take one of everything. I stuck to vegetables and it felt like I was leaving my heart behind as I walked out of the store without one flower.

The only thing that could have made it better was a delicious book to read on the front porch. And that has always been what I’ve wanted: to write a book that someone like me could curl up with on the porch swing, lemonade and a soft afghan nearby and the book, my book, so good it can’t be put down.

I’ve had a few insights over the weekend, too. Several great ideas for stories and essays. I’m feeling pleased and yet, exhausted. It was a busy week and I get real frustrated because I don’t have the energy I use to, but I try to be grateful just to be doing what I am doing.

Maybe, the lessons I’m learning is to scale back. To do less, better. Not a bad idea in gardening, life or writing.