Midnight Pub

Vanishing weekend

~winter

Spent twelve hours Doing Things today: getting bedding plants, walking the dogs, mowing the lawn, goddaughter's dance recital, buying new shoes (wedding next week), fish and chips for dinner, out to a different nursery afterward to pick up forsythias, applying mink oil to a couple of older pairs of shoes, laundry, viola practice. A few coffees here and there to keep the energy up.

Tomorrow will be similarly partitioned. All those plants need to go in pots. I need to dig out the dead forsythias and put the new ones in. Zoom call with the in-laws. The evening should be free. (I hope)

This is a particular time of the year, where things need to be done at certain times and there's no real leeway to push it (all the yardwork). The weather turns in late May here, and it's turned quickly. From near-freezing to above 30 degrees. A new record yesterday. Ominous: not the record, but the trend.

The next two weekends are spoken for. And then we're closing in on the end of June. I think I might need to burn a vacation day just to settle my mind. Finish a book, go for a long run, work on my projects and get back to practicing. I've got a poem in my head that's kind of jumping around. It's not a whole thing. I've got the ending. I don't have a beginning. Endless possibilities until I start to write it down.


tatterdemalion

Adulthood, right? It's the worst.

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winter

All the things that need to be done that, incredibly, have to be done by me

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