Here's what happens: I have too many things I want to write about.
It's like this many days--the variety of events of the day clamor to be written, but there is no time to record it all. I have to decide, and often something gets lost in the shuffle and never gets written.
Today is a good example:
Up and out early for work because I have a meeting with the maintenance guys to discuss things like hard hats, gloves, safety glasses, etc. Before leaving, rapid-fire instructions to poor suffering husband about what to plant today. Will he remember all that? Probably not, but I didn't get home until 10 last night so there was no time to discuss the gardens or plans. Show him the asparagus roots and how to plant. Will he get it done? Maybe, but there's a lot to do in the gardens today. The hardest thing I do all day: get in my car and leave for work.
On the ridge the sun coming up over mist-filled valleys below stops me, and I take a few pictures. Still early, I drive on.
Then further down the road the morning dew in the rising sun stops me again. More pictures. Still a little early--but have to get gas. Get to work 10 minutes early instead of 30 as planned. Oh well. Some things are worth stopping for (gas isn't one, but the car just doesn't go well without it).
At work, after the meeting: elevator decides not to stop on the first floor anymore. Call the repair guy. Weird old sprayed on insulation is falling in the boiler room--get samples to send to a lab for asbestos testing. Toilet stopped up (first of the day, there will be more). Get maintenance on to that. AC isn't working because a circuit board blew over the weekend. Repair guys get it replaced. Everyone is happy. Work on cooling tower documents and have a final (I think) draft. I now know more about them than I ever expected, but still worry that I haven't got it right. Work on shelter-in-place procedures. Plan more bloodborne pathogens and MSDS training for tomorrow. Review all the strange security incidents of the weekend with our head security guy and decide further actions. Call back about new bookmobile schematics and logo. Am horrified to learn of the killing of a former employee by her daughter. How sad is that? It was on my mind all day.
Derek (son #3) called to tell me he is being deployed in 2 weeks to the flooded regions in southern West Virginia. At least he'll be at the family reunion this weekend, and they will let him come home for his son's high school graduation. He needs to weld the frame of his son's truck--it's literally breaking in two.
On the way home, stop at funeral home. An older neighbor passed away over the weekend. The huge parking lot is filled, so many people to honor this quiet, gentle man. He will be missed.
On the way home, stop to take pictures of trilliums and maidenhair ferns on the roadbank. Wild things seem to pay little attention to our comings and goings. They continue to bloom and grow where they land. Stop to see Derek at a neighbor's house where he is welding. Promise the neighbor's wife tomato plants and some pepper plants. We have many left over plants this year. Riches!
More pictures coming across the ridge of the sun slanting down over the road. So pretty it just stops you, you know?
At home, get tomato and pepper plants, send Larry down the road with them. First he shows me the goldenseal roots he found today--yellow root, he calls it, a powerful wild medicine. And the bee boxes that arrived via UPS for the bees that are arriving this weekend. The UPS guys hate our driveway, I'm sure, but they come anyway.
After Larry leaves, I get on the phone and call storytellers, writers, poets, trying to fill the last slot in the WV State Folk Festival Oral Traditions tent schedule. No luck for an hour, after about a dozen calls, but I at least catch up on my friends. Finally, a yes! From someone I should have thought of in the first place. Then on to the computer, to think about what to write tonight.
What I really wanted to write about tonight was life, its hurried passing and leaving. Its richness. I wanted to write about goldenseal, about a husband who treks through the hills seeking the elusive plant, about what goldenseal looks like and what it's used for. I wanted to write about the neighbors who turned out in droves to honor their good friend. I wanted to tell you about the family reunion and the beautiful plants my sister is bringing, and about the plants I want to bring if I have time to dig them.
I want to write about so many things, but only succeed in telling you a little bit about each one--and yet each is a story in itself. Sometimes people say they envy our slow pace of life. I understand why it seems that way--when people come to visit, we slow down. Visitors are important, to be enjoyed. Other things drop away. Daily life, especially in Spring, is hectic as we try to plant and mow and plan and clean and still get me to work on time.
There is one thing I make time for every day: writing. Even though I never have enough time to write all the things I want to write about.