"What do you plan to do with your one, wild, precious life?" -Mary Oliver

Monday, June 21, 2010

Summer Solstice and a Writer's Stew

We farmers are always stewing over something. Right now it's lack of rain. We await the rain with the patience of fishermen. While we wait, we water the fledgling asparagus ferns with a hose in hopes that one day we'll have a beautiful asparagus bed. We water the tomatoes and the rest of the nightshades, we douse the broccoli, melons and lettuce.

We do our best, but well water is not rain water and irrigated vegetables do not have the flavor and nutrients of those watered from heaven. Something about the rain and the nitrogen and ozone it picks up on its way through the atmosphere makes all the difference. Ever do a taste test between a Michigan strawberry and a California one grown and irrigated in the Central Valley? Such a poor imposter that. But we've run the soaker hoses because the promised rain has alluded us for two weeks running. It goes around Deanville Mountain to the north. It goes off into Lake Huron to the east. It rains to the south of us and to the west of us. Enough, you say! Enough. OK.

I'm keeping this short, though my June contributions have been paltry. I'm saving my energy for a slam dunk Festival of the Trees at the end of the month. You have until June 28th to post your entry and send me the link. I'd like to thank Tricia O'Brien for this captivating teaser and mention of the Festival. Also, thanks, Tricia, for the Pertinent Posts Award!


I have not been very prolific of late so it's very consoling to be told I'm pertinent! Not to be confused with impertinent. Isn't it interesting how two words can be so similar in spelling and pronunciation yet so dissimilar in meaning?

(Warning.... I feel a tangent coming on.)

I think it is impertinent of agents to say they are too busy to reply to everyone who queries, that they can only be bothered to reply to those queries that interest them. Of course we writers are supposed to be patient and understanding. Am I being contrary to call that impolite? How do we know our email was ever received if we never hear back? So I have something else to stew about too. Enough, you say. Go to bed, Yvonne, and you’ll feel better in the morning.

OK. But first I'm stepping out on the porch to watch the fireflys as they try to attract a mate. Good night, happy hunting and a soulful Summer Solstice to all.

6 comments:

Jade L Blackwater said...

Solstice Greetings to you Yvonne! Here in the PNW, we have all the rain you could want. It's the tomato-ripening sun we lack this season. It all balances out... eventually. ;)

I love rain, so I love the PNW, but our rain can't quite compete with the summer rain I observed in Pennsylvania. Especially when the lightning rolls through, I could see everything shine with electric green - there's definitely something special about the water that falls from the sky.

Oh... and how I miss those fireflies!

Tricia J. O'Brien said...

Happy Solstice, Yvonne, and I hope you get your rain. Since I am in the non-rainy California of second-best strawberries I'll stew about your wonderful fruits and veges. And I do miss the lightning Jade talks of, too.

Gabriela Abalo said...

the rain will come, same as an editor with good news... be patient and enjoy the process... if things were that easy we will not appreciate them as much as we do.

loveNlight
Gabi

Suzanne Casamento said...

Fireflies. Hopes of rain. Asparagus ferns. Where you live sounds beautiful.

Yvonne Osborne said...

Jade,
How strange. You are receiving the weather we had last summer. I love strong thunderstorms with rolling thunder and zig-zag lightning. They seem to have become a rare occurrence. "Firefly firefly, fire fly for me."

Tricia,
Thanks! Second best isn't a bad place to be!

Gabi,
Thank you. You're so right. At least I hope you are...

Suzanne,
Thanks. Yeah....sometimes we can't see the flower at our feet.

foldingfields said...

Happy Solstice (a day late)! I live in Ohio so I'm lucky to get a Michigan strawberry every now and then. I must admit I didn't know it was the rain that made a difference--it's quite satisfying to think so!
Not gloating or anything, but my veggie patch is brimming with water from the storms over the past week or so. Let's hope the tomatoes taste like candy.
What stupid, stupid agent would not reply? (though, you may have to work on another project to endure the patience required for querying, I guess).