I planted peppers, basil and sweet peas today, and also cut the grass. I’ve never mowed a lawn before, though this enormity hardly qualifies to be called a ‘lawn’. It’s more of a field with contours, fences and obstacles to manoeuvre around.

It was sort of fun, at first, involving a certain amount of strategizing and problem-solving. Then it became agonizingly difficult work, when the lawnmower decided to stop propelling itself and became a monstrously heavy manual push-mower. I quit before I was quite finished, then I collapsed, an empty sack. A hot bath has restored me to life. Blessings.

Tomorrow I embark on a pleasurable adventure, destination Friday Harbour. I mean Friday Harbor, which is on the other side of an imaginary line where things are spelled differently.

This gathering of women, our final organizing meeting for PWCA-camp this summer, will span the spectrum from business to pleasure. We’ll be at the business part all weekend, punctuated by feasts, celebration (my birthday, among other things), an evening workshop, drumming, laughter, hugs, sharing of souls and who knows what all.

When I return, I must get on with the business of my life, the reason I’m here on Vancouver Island.

I need a plan, and to act on it. Time to get out there somehow. Not just with astrology, but cards, dreamwalks, workshops, singing my songs, whatever it takes. I might be a misty-minded mystic, but that doesn’t mean I can’t support myself. I don’t need to get rich, but a living would be nice. I’ll travel, I’ll even cross imaginary lines.

When I shed this shyness enough to market myself without shame, things may fall into place. I hope that doesn’t mean thickening my skin and getting tough.

‘I’m sensitive, and I’d like to stay that way.’ - Jewel

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