Still, I baked and cooked. I made a huge pot of soup, a vat of cookies, two loaves of bread. My husband will not starve this week.
I swept the porches and tended some plants and watered. I moved the plants I could move out from their wintering place in the house and sweetly asked Mr. Moon to move the rest which he did. I tidied up the mud room where they had been, took out the old, ugly plastic table they'd been resting on for the past four months. The mango tree in its pot has been taken outside from the laundry "room" and now I have a place to put the laundry basket. Such a small thing but not so small in my own particular life.
I did laundry. I swept the kitchen. I fed the baby chicks cut-up grapes, I walked around and took pictures of my yard.
The old rescued Red Flyer with pansies.
Wild violets and betony weed.
Three eggs in the nest.
Baby chicks in their little shelter.
The swelling mulberries.
A late blooming camellia.
The Japanese Maple with light behind it.
A cascade of wisteria over the bamboo jungle.
A leafed fig for Ms. Rebecca.
This is where I live and it suits me.
Maybe a little too damn well.