A very fine friday

 Except for the nasturtium seeds, everything here came from the big box dead wagon or trash can (I can't dumpster dive anymore. It requires a partner and I don't know anyone willing to do time for stealing dead geraniums.) But if you become a regular, even a browser, the cashier is more likely to cut a deal with you rather than see plants with a little hope thrown in the garbage. 

Sometimes, if I'm real quiet, I hear them humming. and grunting. and complaining. 

During odd hours this week, this audacious little heart demanded to be manifest. I obliged and immediately put it to work on the side of the writing tote that I drag around. Usually, it's Just In Case (a spirit moves me). 

Over these last few days a large chunk of the work in progress, book four, fell into place. I wrote out notecards for all the scenes I have that are half-baked. gooey still and flexible.

Being able to put them in some kind of order gives the book a beating heart. It's quite thrilling when the smoke clears.

I'm also seeing a way forward for another book that's been on the back burner for several years. 

And today I got my happy place back. Thirty minutes of work brushing and siphoning, then an hour surveying my domain from the floaty. (Deep gratitude for Samantha providing an electric air pump) . We have a few anoles, I hear the tree frogs at night. Dragonflies came in low and slow to inspect me then flitted off for discussions.