Spring Break Sequence
Saturday: Garden: wheeled up topsoil from the heap in the horse field with a borrowed barrow, ours needed a new tyre. Mr went to buy a new one, twice: first the wrong size then the right, then the pump broke. We have a new flat tyre. It’s closer to perfection than it was. The newest raised bed stinks with rotted grass. Saturday evening: drove over the Severn Bridge, squinted at sun-bloom on the wide river, admired the geometry of cables, the bold shadows. Arrived in time to watch theatrical acts compete on various televisual shows. Eager and numerous as the flies on our rotted grass: this is what it is to be an artist my dears. Just be the fly you want to be. The six year old who was staying up late decided she would rather be a dog. She would go to bed, but she would be practicing her bark, quietly; but her brother had already woken from his own coughing. Everyone went to bed later than intended. Sunday: morning brought rain. While the earth d