2021-07-27 - 2:58 p.m.
something other than accomplishments
i have a little lemon tree / i grew it from a seed / but it can never give me / all the fruits i need
* * *
the annual cicadas are singing high in the trees now. it's too hot outside, and indoors, the air conditioner gives the house a gross basement feeling.
i feel penned in on all sides.
my neighbor goes out in the morning and sprays roundup on her new flowerbeds. it would seem she believes that weed killer will only kill weeds and leave the flowers alone. by evening, the flowers die.
for things to feel merely difficult again, not crushed and crushing, is a move to a better place. i never wanted to be a stay-at-home parent, but here we are.
* * *
reading: there's a very real chance my children will read through every picture book in the children's section of the library.
listening to: still drifting down the japanese ambient rabbit hole like a very chill piece of dandelion fluff.
working on: keeping ahead of the goddamned laundry.
in the garden: there's too much and not enough, all at the same time. too much to eat at once, too little to be worth preserving.