I've never before seen this clematis bloom in the fall. In fact, I thought I'd lost the whole vine in the drought--until two weeks ago, when it suddenly greened up, put out tendrils, then a tentative blossom or two, and now it's covered with these lovely purple blooms. We're still in what the weather folks call a "severe" drought (28" deficit for the past 24 months), but we've had enough rain to make some of the plants think that spring has come around again. The cypress trees along the creek are putting out new green leaves, roses are blooming, and the meadow is bright with blackfoot daisy and even a few out-of-season penstemmon. There's some water in the lake, a little in the creek (it's not flowing yet). I saw a heron fishing in Turtle Pool, so the crayfish must be reappearing. And a few days ago, I spotted this guy (or gal, as the case may be):
The perfect picture of a self-satisifed toad in a hole in a delightfully dampish place, enjoying a bit of rain for the first time in months.
I don't know which I like better: starting a new book or finishing one. This week, I finished The Darling Dahlias and the Cucumber Tree. If you've been following along on this one, you might remember that I started it at the end of July and have worked pretty steadily ever since, with 4-5 days out here and there for book travel and the other ordinary business of life. Starting a book, I'm always nearly overwhelmed by the immensity of choices to be made; ending one, I'm struck by the apparent inevitability of the book's events--which says something about the miracle of plotting, I suppose. Monday, this one goes to NY via the magic of cyber-travel.
Snap beans, snow peas, carrots, zuchinni--fresh from the fall garden to the table. We're also eating kale, collards, chard, spinach, and a few sweet potatoes. Looking forward to various squash, and I'll dig the rest of the sweet potato crop next week. The tomatoes I direct-seeded in the garden are beginning to bloom: don't think they'll have time to set fruit. But those I cut back in July are producing nicely, so I count that a success. Next year, I need to put the fall garden in a little earlier: I was so daunted and disheartened by the drought this year that I waited a little too long.
Now that the book is done: housecleaning (especially my office, which is a horrible mess), catching up on the mail and the email, reading/reviewing a couple of new books, knitting, checking the page proofs for Holly Blues (due to arrive on Monday) and pondering China #19, which is the next book on the schedule. Also, working with Peggy on the upcoming Story Circle memoir conference, which she and I are co-chairing. I'm sure I won't be bored.
Reading note. The only reward I look forward to is seeing the finished piece of writing in hand. And if I should find myself in a lazy spell, all I have to do to get active again is to remember how miserable life was for me when I was trying to get published.--Erskine Caldwell
