Oh I promised myself I would not blog, eat, or even shower, before I got some fiction writing done today!
But I looked out the window and realized–my garden needs watering. So I obliged. I should have waited. For my mind is now filled with distraught thoughts about my French tarragon plant!
The gopher/mole ATE MY ENTIRE FRENCH TARRAGON PLANT. Sometime last night. He ate nothing else.
I know it’s him…because I saw a fresh new hole in the ground today, about a foot away from the tarragon massacre.
My only bright thought is that he is cooking up something beautiful and French and Provencal, ala the movie “Ratatouille,” somewhere, somehow. Because I never allowed myself to harvest even a sprig off that plant (I don’t know what I was waiting for–I guess I wanted it to get SUPER bushy before I would allow myself to trim it and eat it).
Grrr. But still, I will not kill it.
Back to writing.