With that said, the farm kept going along through all of this. There are a pair of lambs here and those boys are strong as mini tin oxen. The garden is plodding towards respectable. I have lettuce, onions, kale, peas, broc, chard, green beans, tomatoes, cucumbers, basil, zucchini and pumpkins planted. My grand ideas for a horse-plowed pumpkin patch and a 1/4 acre of sprawling gardens didn't happen, but planting season isn't over yet. I may not hit the dream goal this season but I am getting in a bit of feedin'earth that is healthy and the house doesn't look like an episode of Hoarders - having achieved that during a manuscript deadline on a springtime farm I feel more accomplishment than I care to admit.
I have much to write about to you guys. I want to talk about this weekend's soap making workshop in the thunderstorm and today's adventures on horseback through the woods, but right now I am climbing back up the writing roller coaster's cranking and clinking chain. I just dropped the plummet fall of an 80,000 word manuscript and haven't gotten back to the creative peak just yet. I am enjoying my little holiday between the deadline and the blog's maw.
But don't worry. You guys know me. Every time I say I'm taking a little break or will post less I start pushing out love letters and manifestos. I'm here. But tonight I am tired.