How to write in July? If you’re Canadian, don’t.
My author, L, recently told me July is a very good time to take a holiday from writing. That includes blogging, she said, looking at me in a stern, parental way that I don’t think she has a right to, but that’s an argument for another day. She told me July is a month that was made especially for Canada. To spend any more time than necessary in front of a computer screen in such a month would be a mistake I would come to regret come, say, November. A writer, she said, should not be any more hard on herself about taking a vacation than, say, an accountant or an epidemiologist or a picture framer. So it looks like she and I are both on holiday. I won’t be blogging, and she won’t be writing my life. That’s fine, I could use a rest. I’ll still be there when she decides to check on me again, and maybe I’ll be the better for having been ignored. Out of respect for L’s wisdom on this point, then, this is the last you’ll see of me this month.
And you — what are you doing reading words on a screen right now? Take a hike, get some sun, go for a swim, pull some weeds, chase a cylinder mower around that patch of grass, pump up the bicycle tires and go for a ride.
I was out there this morning with L while she was pulling weeds, which was what she was doing instead of working on the novel about me. Already, she’s pushed me to the back of her mind, and I can see why. There’s an abecedarium of local produce right there in her back yard: Arugula, Basil, Cilantro, Dandelion, Everbearing spinach, Garlic, Homesteader peas, Jack-o-lantern pumpkins, Lettuce, Mint, Nasturtiums (eat the peppery flowers!), Onions, Parsley, Raspberries, Sage, Tomatoes, Violets (again, the flowers), Xtra corn to give away to friends, Yellow beans … . Okay, yes, her garden is missing a letter here and there: she doesn’t grow Fennel, Kale, Quinoa, Watermelon or Zucchini; and as for U and I, they’re missing too. Gotta go now — the arugula’s ready!
Mentioned in this post: abecedarium