We really are in the throes of spring now. The leaves are coming out on the trees, giving the landscape a green tinge. The birds are singing. And today there was a distinctly sweet smell in the air. The compost is now heating up and most of the time, you can feel the heat of the sun on your face.

I worked in my cabin for a few hours early today. Each phase of this project leads to another. I have boxes containing my unpublished poems and essays. I am going to categorize them, using a computer file. This way I’ll get a sense of how to prioritize what I need to work on.

Peach trees blooming in the high tunnel

This is the trick – I could take a few years and do nothing else but market old writing. This would mean not writing anything new. I am now thinking – not a good idea. I am instead going to have to strike a balance between coming up with new work and getting old work out there. I can do this.

I don’t think that I’m going to get that much more indoor stuff done. The weather is too nice to spend it inside. Instead, I’ll finish up this project when the weather again becomes inclement. Then again, it may soon rain, and if it does, I’ll go back to working inside.

Today I decided to give Pete a hand because he’s done so much for me. He’s also now busier than I have ever seen him. So today, for starters, I cleaned the greenhouse, which means cleaning up the beds. I also washed the greenhouse windows. Pete then decided to paint the trim. It was previously green, but he decided this time, to go with red. I hate to say it, but I liked the green better. It just sort of blended in.

Now the red paint, it reminds me of a brothel. I’ll get used to it because I have to.

I can’t say I enjoyed the work. If I had my druthers, I’d much rather brush a horse or two or three or four. This is what I did when I finished working in the greenhouse. It should not matter what one is doing, it should all be calming and meditative. But, sad to say, it matters to me. This animal care thing, it really must be in my DNA. I’m just not at peace with myself when I’m pulling hemp nettle out of tight spaces.

I am going to have Pete give me other projects around the place to do. It is looking like it’s going to be a very low key summer around here. I began thinking about BCHA trips – now I doubt that they are going to happen. Overnight camping with others is like living semi-communally. You get close and you share everything.

I’m also thinking that my fall trip to Maine is not going to happen.

I keep asking Pete, how long are we going to have to be isolating ourselves? Now the man who usually has all the answers has none. Right there, that should tell you something.

Next: 131. 5/11/20: A Conversation with Buckwheat