Another week has come and gone, and I’ll be honest, other than Sunday and Monday, not a whole lot has been written. Stuff has been done, but not on the writing front.
The few words that I wrote on “drafting” were coming up with prompts for the Romance prompt book that I am planning to have ready for release in late January 2017. I wrote some journals, I wrote some blog posts. Otherwise, I’ve been physically laboring.
Between extreme rains followed by extreme heat, my garden has died. I picked out what I could save (a handful of bell peppers, a bowlful of chili peppers, and about two gallons of the smallest Roma tomatoes I have ever seen), and then I scrapped my garden. I pulled everything up, ran over it a few times with a lawnmower to chop it all up, then I threw it on my new compost heap.
My new plan for my garden next year involves about twelve 4×4 ft raised beds, and I will have to have dirt to fill those with, so I have been mucking out the horse stables, the goat stables, the chicken pens, the rabbit pens, and I have been chopping down the dried out corn, raking up cut grass, and anything else that I can find to get my compost pile going. And everyone has been chipping in, so the pile is a pretty good size already. Hopefully, by planting time next year, there will be enough “black gold” out there for me to fill all of my planting beds and for my dad and uncle to spread over their gardens. (And if my beds do as well as I am hoping they will, hopefully, I’ll be able to convince my dad to do the same instead of planting in the same old, tired out garden that he has been planting in for the last twenty years.)
That has been my week in a handbag. I still have the other half of the horse stable to do (I was the last person to muck out that stable…fifteen years ago), and I have to take two of the kids to the eye doctor’s this week, so maybe some words will hit the page in between those events.