As I write this harvest still hasn’t started for the Anaka family. I’ve managed to keep busy with many time-sensitive projects for Babas & Borshch: final reports for government, two new grant applications, a Travel Alberta videotaping in Calgary, an Alto Award nomination, phone and in-person meetings.
I also managed to squeeze in a visit to the walk-in clinic, an eye exam, choosing a new pair of glasses (yippee), two physiotherapy appointments, a visit to a podiatrist and a fitting for new orthotics with a pedorthist. I survived a weekend sleepover with Grady but appear to have caught his head cold.
I’ve also made some inroads on extra projects that were stalled. I’ve managed to organize and store most of the festival supplies. I took a cold, hard look at the unsold items from my garage sale and considered the nudge from Hilary before finally deciding to donate the items. One packed carload later, it is done.
Had the weather been better (and the excruciating pain in my heels bearable) I might have spent some time outside trying to whip the yard into shape. This is the first time in forever that I haven’t trimmed the cotoneaster hedge even once this year. In a moment of lunacy I thought about digging up the perennials I wanted to save and throwing away everything else. Deconstructing some of the flowerbeds as it were. Reducing my work and my guilt in one fell swoop.
I’m poised to spend the next few weeks driving a combine; preparing endless on-the-go meals; enduring the long, hard days; and ignoring the upheaval in my schedule. One bonus of the long monotonous days spent alone in the combine is the thinking time.
And there are a few things I need and want to think about. One: does the book project I’ve undertaken with a friend have a prayer for completion? What can I do to ensure we do what we’ve promised? Two: what special books and intentions should I pack for my week at the Canmore time-share? Why do I physically need to leave home to get the benefits of a retreat? Three: how should I prep for the Travel Alberta conference in Banff to get the most out of my time there? Four: will the Canadian dollar rebound a bit before our February trip to Rancho Mirage, California? Is it possible to holiday without shopping? Five: who holds the truth to my heel pain diagnosis? Is it heel spurs or posterior tibial tendinitis dysfunction? Which expert’s advice should I be following? Which should I disregard? Will this ever go away?
So even though it feels like I’m cooling my heels, waiting, waiting, waiting for harvest to begin, in fact I’m filling my days with small wins and doing some cerebral planning for future projects. It’s not quite the definition of being in the moment, but perhaps it is improving the quality of future moments, from where I sit.
Hazel Anaka’s first novel is Lucky Dog. Visit her website for more information or follow her on Twitter @anakawrites.