Normally this time of year, I’d bring you the harvest report from around the block and beyond. I’d be checking in on the chickens, asking after the sweet corn crop that filled up a neighbor’s front yard, admiring some sugar pie pumpkins and finding out if anyone ate nearly as many romano beans as we did at my house this summer. Man, those beans were good.
But alas. While my neighbors gather in their late summer tomatoes, and the cabbages get serious about fall, I’m plopped on the sofa with my right foot on the coffee table and my left hand in a cast. OMG, you might say! What manner of drama have we here?
Thanks for asking. It’s been a Wile E. Coyote kind of summer, so laugh if you like. I do. In June, I tripped over the cord to my laptop, flew into a wall, and broke my nose. In July, I hiked a few too many miles in the Sierras and acquired a stress fracture in my foot. Ten days ago, I took a little spill on my bike (which I could still ride with my tender foot) and broke my fall with my hand.
So you might say I’ve had some weeks of unplanned relaxation. Which puts me in mind of Xavier de Maistre, who also spent time under house arrest. (more…)