The air doesn’t smell like flowers anymore, or leaves or young grass.  As I drove out to my parents’ house, I rolled the windows down and smelt the afternoon sun on cornfields and the backs of cows.  Late summer is rolling in.

I woke this morning to quiet.  There weren’t cars or bikes or people walking to the busstop.  There were some birds, a rustle of breeze in the trees, and the jingle of the dogs collar.  I walked in the fields white with Queen Ann’s Lace and sweet with purple clover.  I stood on a mossy path amongst the trees to pick and eat the wild blackberries until mosquitoes ate me.

It made me want to buy a house someplace quiet by fields of wheat and waves.

I guess I’m still the country kid I always was.

-The book I’m working on is getting to the point where it feels like work, the point where I have to push through and sweat it out and tap my pens on my paper a lot. But I like that.

- After a hot day, I sprawled out in bed beside the fan and read late into the night. When I finished my book, I was still too captivated by it to sleep. I hovered between living and dreaming for a while, and found myself remembering smells that I had long forgotten. For a moment, they were as real to me as ever before, as were the memories around them. And in that remembering, I made a bit more sense to myself.

-The book I read was The Idiot. I don’t think I’ve read anything better.

-When it’s too hot out, I tend to feel sick and forget to eat.

-Adam is at the dentist.

-It is nice to have no internet in the summertime.

I love this part of summer. The breezy dresses. Sleeping sprawled beside the breeze of a lazy fan. Staying up late with friends. Drinking outside. Eating outside. Being sweaty. Long days. Slow walking. Ripe berries. Sweat peas. Reading too much. Music on the streets. Cute girls biking. Cute boys biking. Too hot to cook. White wine. Cool showers. Sitting on the porch. Let’s get ice cream.

Summer in early July is a freshly ripe vegetable.

What is this time of year like for you?

I feel like Adam and I are taking these great little steps. My writing is inching along in quite beautiful ways*, and Adam is moving in the direction of Industrial/Product Design school. Yup! I am proud and excited. Financing all this will be an adventure, so send your prayers our way, friends. It’s an adventure I’m looking forward to.

Until then, we’ll go on learning to recognize
what we love, and what it takes
to tend what isn’t for our having.
-Li-Young Lee

Amen.

*Let me know if you’d like to help me edit the first 37 pages of my next book. I need all the help I can get.

As I learn that plants I step on daily are edible, pick wildflowers for vases or my hair, feast from mulberry trees that line the street, and just learn to recognize the plants around me, I find myself understanding more and more the riches in the earth, the great provision we are given in nature. And somehow, I know God a little better.

Hi, friends. The tomatoes are growing, the fireflies are glowing, at the internet has vanished from the Whitlock apartment. It makes my posts here much shorter and less frequent, but I don’t mind. It gives me a reason to sit at coffee shops, and lets me find new ways to waste away my time. The other day I spent a half hour laying on the bed blowing bubbles at the ceiling. I’ll take that over blogging any day.

The most delightful things I’ve spent my internetless days on are reading The Idiot, running into Jonah, writing, eating juneberries, doing yoga and drinking fresh, delicious milk in wine glasses on the porch with Tiffany. And before the elderblossems all wilt away, I want to put some on a sandwich and eat it. I hear you can do that.

Oh, good days. So much happening, so much growing and being discovered. Summer is sweet, I tell you. Do yourself a favor. Find a juneberry tree. Buy good milk. And share it.

Rest. Ah.

I lick the juice from my fingers
stained by berries and blood.
The thorn you pulled from my thumb,
you drop to the ground. No one
will find it. It is hidden by tall
grass and men
standing like wheat.

“I had always wanted to be an explorer, though I didn’t know it at the time.”

I have started typing up the first part of the novel I’m working on. This will be a longer one, so I’m doing it in chunks, rather than scribbling the whole thing out and then going back to type it up. That line, the first line, is what the whole story sprang from. This particular character has been a pleasure to work with, and an entirely good influence on me. I just know you’ll like him.

Publishing the children’s book has been going slowly, which one can expect, I suppose. But in the last week at work, I discovered I had a small wealth of a couple people at the coffee shop who have connections in the literary world and would like to help me a bit along the way. Their expressed support alone is worth gold.

In other news, the strawberries are ripe. I bought a couple quarts at the farmer’s market this morning and have great plans for some afternoon strawberry shortcake, and perhaps some jam. I also got fresh peas, cucumber, and a loaf of sourdough bread. June is such a nice time for eating!

Feeling a bit slimed today after work. Just a little slime. I’m probably not getting enough alone time.
Here are things that I go to to brighten me on slimy days, these days:

1. This interview with Maya Angelou (click on Listen Now)

2. Roald Dahl’s official website. Particularly “Meet Roald Dahl” and “An Interview with Roald Dahl.”

3. Dancing around to The Cure. I’m reminded these days, of how much nicer life is with dancing in it.

4. Watching Pete and Pete. (or just watch the credits on YouTube)

5. Reading poems and the Bible.

6. Being with Adam.

7. Lying down, listening, and staring at the ceiling.

Hold onto what is good and true and what gives people dignity. I know these things exist because I see them in my friends

What do you look at on slime days?