Today's writing instigator shall be: bones.
We got an unexpected call this week from the chef at the Watermark Beach Resort here in Osoyoos. Apparently our friends at the bakery had passed our card on to him and he was interested in meeting with us to discuss making use of our produce in their restaurant.
We'd considered approaching them in previous years but for various reasons never got around to it, so we were definitely interested. We went in this afternoon to meet him and things went well, so it looks like we've got a new destination for our veggies, berries, and fruit this year.
It would appear our next farming season has begun already.
He studies his creation in silence, allowing the cares of the day to crumble to dust. The meetings, the deadlines, the endless reports and spreadsheets. Complaints from underlings and demands of supervisors fall away as a lone finger traces the intricate details of his pet project.
It is not complete, but he finds that less bothersome than usual. For this condition is temporary, he can see that now. An end is in sight, nearly within reach.
He has found the missing pieces.
She arrived last week. Introductions were made by that dolt in Sales. Terry or John or whatever his name is. Unimportant.
Molly. She's all that matters. And those magnificent cheekbones of hers. How long has he searched for them without even knowing it?
The wait is almost over now. Soon his masterpiece will be whole, the way it had first come to him while he slept. Pure perfection.
All that's left is to find a way to get Molly alone.