Why do I check out so many library books at one time? The fragrance of the paper? A towering stack nearby flirts from the floor and beckons to be embraced. I’m wondering why I invited these home when devouring eight books in fifteen days would mean bathing in nothing but coffee.
The seduction begins when I enter the lobby and feel the overwhelm of possibility. All these amazing ideas clamor to get inside my head and incite me to act: build it, plant it, imagine it, cook it, visit it. My blood races and a little saliva puddles at the corner of my mouth. No, it’s not a seizure, I’m just seized with excitement like a lone boll weevil feasting in cotton field. So many tomes, so little time.
From the dusty volumes of the great indoors to the pollen-infused great outdoors, we bid farewell to our final jasmine blossoms of the year. Bursting in abundant popcorn-y clusters, the vines beguile us with an Orville Redenbacher bounty of blooms. They spritz the loveliest of perfumes throughout our yard and into our home. As the lacy green tendrils yawn and drop their petals and stretch across the fence line, it’s time for the fragrant freesia, sweet alyssum, scarlet nicotiana, and silver leaf senna to step up and fill the air.
These plants and dozens of others form our “butterfly bed-and-breakfast.” In our collection of edibles, the dill patch has checked out early, having served more as a bug hors d'oeuvre than a cooking accent. The bronze fennel persists, perhaps as dessert while the caterpillars munch the brunch that is my herb garden. We’ve entertained just one hummingbird this spring, but more will check in as we feed the flowering fronds (and imprison the cats indoors).
Which host plants do you cultivate for your passions? What nibbles away at your time and prevents you from tending your goals? Are you amassing late fees on your dreams? This week I pledge to multitask: pull up the lawn chair by the jasmine for at least one hour and breathe while I read. How will you nurture your projects this week?