A Fallow Time

I've been thinking a lot about plant metaphors lately. The connection of books and trees, the connection of being grounded and bearing fruit, the need for light and water, the tree inherent in a seed. And the phrase that comes to me for the month of August is an old one: lying fallow. In a time before industrialized agriculture, farmers would give alternating fields a break from crops every couple of years: a chance to build up nutrients again, to rest from producing so as to produce more abundantly later. It's the same idea behind the weekend, or summer vacation.

I've been talking lately to a potential partner for the bookstore, and after a period of feeling out each other's goals and intentions, I think we've both gotten pretty excited about the possibility of working together. But we've agreed to wait until September to make a final decision about whether we want to do it. She has some practical things to work out on her end; I have some internal wrestling with my own expectations that I need to do.

So I have the month of August for a fallow time. I don't have any other deadlines as far as working on the bookstore is concerned; some efforts are going forward with the FGA, and I'm always keeping my ears open, but there's nothing I need to do in my free time. I've announced a hiatus on my other blog, and aside from some social gatherings, I have no other obligations.

I'm grateful for this month. I intend to spend time in the park and in my backyard, to love on my husband a lot, to cook and bake as I often don't have time to do, and just generally to breathe and rest. I'll be building up my internal resources for September, when the work will start again.

I'll be taking a break from this blog as well, to make the rest more complete. Check back in September for the new beginnings; for now, I hope you're enjoying some productive rest as well.