Wednesday June 4th, 2014

The exercise:

Write about something or someone that has been: blown away.

Spent the morning transplanting heirloom tomato plants with Genevieve, after marking out the rows where our potatoes will be going in. This evening I was supposed to help Kat's parents with the cherry nets again but it was too windy for that.

Which made me think that maybe all those tomato plants should probably be staked and tied so that they wouldn't break in the wind. So that was my after dinner job.

Maja arrived this afternoon after a sleepless night in Vancouver. Max has, of course, taken a liking to her already. We'll see if she's up for putting in potatoes tomorrow morning.

Which, I think, would be more likely if this friggin' wind would calm the hell down.

Mine:

This place is unfamiliar to me. I do not recognize anything, no matter which way I turn. No building, no street, no tree gives me the comfort of knowing that I have laid eyes on it before.

Locals give me strange looks but no welcome, no advice. Worst of all, they give me no direction.

I could start walking, but on which path? Will any of them lead me to somewhere that I am sure is closer to home than where I am now? It seems unlikely.

So I remain rooted to this spot, slowly becoming a familiar part of the scenery to those who pass by. I do not like this, but I cannot seem to force myself to move.

How did I even arrive here? I cannot remember, not exactly. I know I was walking, quickly I think, along my street. Trying to get home before the storm arrived in full force. The rain came, that is definitely true.

I must have opened my umbrella to protect myself and my new suit from getting soaked... but when I try to think of what came next, my memory is blown viciously clear...