I am working very, very hard on something that I fear will not be so creatively satisfying. It goes like that from time to time. I have also taken a small holiday from things theatrical; hoping that a break will mean I return fresh, inspired and enthused. Here’s hoping.
In the meantime, I had occasion to feel unbelievably proud and satisfied and delighted today. In spring I bought a teeny grenadilla plant and popped it into a pot I had in the back courtyard. Against my slightly pessimistic expectations the little thing flourished, and soon I was demanding that Big Friendly hang up the various frames and trellises it needed; it was spreading so fast. I was thrilled when a couple of those beautiful flowers opened. Then I saw a baby grenadilla had formed. I have been keeping a beady eye on it, half expecting it to fall, unripened, off. Then, this weekend I noticed that it had turned purple. I made Big Friendly reach up and feel it; I was a bit too short. He told me it was hard. I have been struggling with whether to pick it or leave it up for longer since then, and today I couldn’t resist any longer. I climbed up and picked the perfect purple little ball.