Weekly Roundup 37: Banned Books Week

 

Weekly Roundup 36: Turning the Corner

Well, hello there, middle of September. Where did you come from so quickly?

I recently saw September described as a month to turn the corner, and that feels so fitting. Summer might still linger, but we're preparing to leave it behind and face the arrival of autumn and winter.

The idiom "turn the corner" refers to a situation that improves after a difficult period, but that doesn't quite describe this September feeling. This is more like the combination of a fond goodbye and a welcoming hello--appreciating the last gifts of summer while we anticipate the rest of the gifts the year has to offer.

Honestly, I am ready to turn the corner on a few things: gardening, the heat, mosquitoes and grasshoppers, and the pressure of my summer to-do list. The weeks between now and Halloween offer some really nice moments for pausing and breathing and slowing down. I'm planning on enjoying soup, candles, sweaters, and hopefully more sleep very soon. 

Leading up to the fall equinox on Saturday the 22nd, September's full harvest-super-blood-moon last night coincided with a partial lunar eclipse. Under a magical celestial glow, this week feels like the perfect time to approach the turning of the corner with gratitude for what was and enthusiasm for what will be. 

See you in autumn, pumpkin spice fans!

Weekly Roundup 35: Pollination

From the linden tree that blooms in the spring to the summer's bee balm to the last sunflower of autumn, I have a fair number of bees buzzing around my yard all season. I'm not a master gardener, but I steer clear of pesticides and in general try to have a suitable oasis where the bees can get about their business of pollination.

In very simple terms, pollination is the transfer of pollen within and between flowers, which allows for fertilization and production of the plant's fruit or seed. Bees, birds, bats, butterflies, beetles, moths, and even the wind are part of the process. It is so critical to food production, from large-scale agriculture to small garden plots like mine, that the State of Colorado passed legislation this year to protect pollinating insects and their habitats. 

So, for many plants, nothing comes to fruition without pollination.

Bear with me as I try tie this in to writing.

I have a partially completed manuscript I've been trying to get back to for months. When people ask me if I'm writing, I think about that neglected WIP and feel guilty when I say, no, not really, I'm on a bit of a hiatus right now, been busy with other things, I'm stuck, etc. (All these things are true, by the way, but not great excuses.)  

I'm so grateful for people who care about me and my writing. And it occurred to me the other day that every time someone asks me, it's almost as if...here it comes...each question is like a friendly bee buzzing around me, pollinating my creativity, doing its part to nudge me closer to fruition.

Too much of a stretch? Probably.   

But I think it's working.  

A big thank you to all the literal and metaphorical pollinators in my life! See you all next week.

Weekly Roundup 34: Labors of Love

Labor Day was Monday, and here's a big shout-out to all the workers at every level who keep this world turning. When I think of how many people are involved in the basic needs and functions of daily life--from running water to high-speed internet, from agriculture to the convenience store on the corner--I'm astounded. And grateful!

I also want to recognize another type of work: the labor of love. Merriam-Webster defines it as "a labor voluntarily undertaken or performed without consideration of any benefit or reward." That doesn't feel quite accurate, as benefits and rewards can come in many forms. 

I prefer this definition from Dictionary.com: "work done for the sake of one's own enjoyment or benefit to others rather than for material rewards." A labor of love also might be considered an avocation or hobby, as opposed to a vocation which (hopefully) pays the bills. But I think it goes deeper than a hobby. A calling, maybe?

Labors of love also keep the world turning, or at the very least make it more a interesting place. So here's to all the painters and ballroom dancers and novelists and gardeners and poets and parkour athletes and needlepointers and fiddle players and cartoonists and everyone else doing what we do for the love of it.

See you next week!