like a hot house tomato

That's what life feels like these days. It's deep summer. The garden is busting out: fruits ripening, leaves multiplying, new sprouts seemingly exploding from the ground hours after the little seeds were tucked in there. I just might, maybe, be getting a bit of lettuce fatigue.

But our life in general feels like how the garden looks right now. The projects got bigger fast upon returning to Madison. Good things have been happening professionally. The kiddo, my favourite sprout, has been exploding with vocabulary and movement . He is like grass growing so fast you can literally see it getting longer before your eyes.

I am a little distracted with the unruly pile of things I need and want to do in a day, anything from grant writing to repairing the broken vent/faucet/toilet/hose/shower rod to making freezer jam because it's strawberry season. We have a non-functional shower but have managed to build a gonzo sandbox in the backyard out of a derelict raised bed. Do I continue to unpack the office or go for a run or make dinner?

Yes, you can say that the tendrils of our life have run a little amuck lately. And yet, somehow it works for us right now. There's a joy to the summer chaos that can only be appreciated after a long, isolating, sickly indoor winter. I kind of like feeling sand underfoot in the living room and sticky ice cream fingers wrapping themselves around my neck. And I think I'll finish writing that grant tonight. I'll make the jam tomorrow. And the office can wait a little longer.