Moth'sRest of Bliss

[ismo]

Everything around here is exploding into leaf and flower. It's sad for me that I don't have the wherewithal to get out there and grapple with it. In fact, I've spent the day fighting off the urge to assume the fetal position as everything that I look upon makes me think of tasks undone. Woe! I have tried to work productively with this by getting out my pen and paper and writing down all the things I think of that need doing, rather than revolving them in my brain in a death apiral. And then doing whatever little tiny bits of things are currently within my capacity. I have removed several pounds of paper from my environment and put away a number of other things. I also wrote another 500 words. I'd like to be rocketing along, but at least I'm creeping. . . . The Sparrowhawk accomplished great things, including mowing the front yard yet again. The grass is growing with mad insouciance, as are the dandelions and other weeds. I asked him to go and get my favorite meal from the restaurant by the lakeshore--angel hair pasta with green beans, baby tomatoes, herbs and chicken in garlic butter. It seemed like something I could eat that would agree with me. So far so good.