On New Beginnings

What can we let go of?

Dear Reader,

Dear Friend,

Dear Fellow Self-Interrogator,

I’m thinking about all the different ways of starting over. Hello!

Each morning first thing, we go out to the garden. We are growing a lot of collard greens and kale and they need a lot of care. We sprayed them with soap and cayenne to keep the bugs off, but the caterpillars learned that we couldn’t spray the tiny new leaves in the growth center of the collards fast enough, because they were always growing. There was always some part left uncovered by our spray. The newest part. The freshest part. Those parts were more tasty, and the caterpillars found a way to hide in the folds and eat the newest, most tender leaves, before they really had a chance to form. They left outer, tougher leaves untouched, and went for the plants where it hurt. Once that growth center is gone, a plant can’t keep growing.

When we realized what was happening, almost too late, I started checking each leaf, individually. Turning them over and looking for cabbage moth eggs. Scraping away each egg with my thumbnail. Pulling off every caterpillar I could find. Every day. I do this every day. My back hurts from bending over and doing this every day. But, the collards and kale are coming back from the brink.

One solution might just be to grow fewer of these plants. Fewer leaves to inspect. There’s a poem there, somewhere, and I’ll write it someday. This is a lesson I have to learn. Taking care of fewer things means I can care for them better.

So, what can I let go of? What can I do less of?

It might be this.

Did you see that coming? I’ve been writing to you less and less. I need to work on new projects. I need a fresh start. So, I’m going on hiatus.

I’m really so thankful that you all subscribed and read and thought and listened and acted with me. I needed that support system. I hope it gave you something that you needed, too. Please be in touch, and maybe I’ll show up in your inbox again someday.

Until then,

Gwen