Waiting and Weeding

Like most long-time writers, I'm accustomed to receiving many more rejections than acceptances for my manuscript submissions. Still, I consider my memoir, God, the Devil, and Divorce, as the pinnacle of my writing career, having spent years on its many variations. After submitting it for the first time, you might find me anxiously checking my computer for the results. But weeds have my full-time attention instead.

I'm paying big-time for being gone two weeks on our road trip to Yosemite and then nearly a week at the writers conference. ​Eighteen-inch high horsetails have taken over the new planting area in our front yard landscape seemingly overnight. And buttercups have been quietly wending their way into our garden we spent so many sweaty hours last summer establishing. Weed killer is not an option for the horsetails. I've been told by our local plant clinic that they must be kept chopped off at the ground, and, maybe in five years, they will be no more. Although I'd hate to, I confess I'm contemplating murder by poison for the buttercups, impelling me to remove my pesticide free zone yard signs.  So with my engagement in this life and death battle, I'm not holding my breath, waiting to hear back from my submissions. Perhaps this is a blessing. I can't be sure.