as I came out from the grocery store this morning, coffee and a pie in my hand, I thought, it's a beautiful morning. it was overcast and cloudy, cool. this is called progress.
tomorrow morning I'll wake up very early and strap on my bright orange shoes to try and break my personal record in the 5K. it is not a very big deal -- I'm not tremendously fast, I haven't really been training for it, and there are a million other 5Ks -- but nonetheless I find myself thinking like a competitor. I always forget how much I love to race.
I've turned every possible stone in the search for my bike. I even tried emailing the previous owner -- thanks to gmail, I still had her address -- to see if she had a record of the serial number, but she didn't. I still read the bike ads on craigslist every day, but I believe all hope is lost.
in the garden, there is so much work to be done. at the end of the summer I harvested what I could, but let things turn to chaos. weeds abound. the tomatillos were positively outrageous. surprisingly, it will be a relief to put it to bed for the winter. there will still be brussels sprouts (hopefully, if I can conquer the aphids), and kale, and herbs. everything else will lay dormant, or die. much has already been composted. the peppers, stubbornly, as if they don't know any better, continue to produce flowers. I pulled the tomatoes just the other day, and inhaled for one last moment the sweet spicy smell of the vine. now months will go by before I smell it again.
in the meantime, there are 25 pounds of unripe tomatoes on my kitchen counter. or, I should say, counters. and windowsills. and in bowls.
despite my best efforts, I find myself sleeping in the dent in the middle of the bed.
life moves forward. some things remain a mystery. but others -- others I feel a strange certainty about, for absolutely no reason at all.