The morning glories look so pretty, the way they have crept up the tomato stakes, covered over the low lying zucchini, and are now making advance up the porch railing. The white and purple blooms of neglect make it easy to shrug my shoulders and pretend I meant it that way.
It's been too hot to weed, too hot to cook, too hot to care that it's all going to waste. But it's been just the right temperature to stay inside in the a/c and write. Just perfect for haunting the publishing sites for submission deadlines and contest dates.
So, yeah--I've harvested a total of two green peppers, five tomatoes, and one big fat zucchini from garden that has yielded much much more to the ground, but I've been writing, submitting, entering, getting rejected--and yes, getting published too.
My garden is a bust, but the writing this season has been good. I've nothing to can for the winter, but plenty to chew on none the less.
