I’ve been trying to grow the perfect tomato for a few years now. WIP stands for work in process which is a common term for writers that have a project that’s still in an embryo state. The project might not have a title or totally taken shape but its there and has it’s own file on our computer, though only we might know it’s true name. A name that might be too raw for the real world because we might not quite be on the right track yet.

What does this have to do with my heirloom tomatoes I’ve lovingly nurtured since Spring? One lone tomato was finally turning red. I’d been watching it for days. We’ve had bugs before, so I’ve been on the look out for those. So one early morning I woke up, thinking this would be the day. From my kitchen window, I could immediately see something was wrong. I ran across the wet grass in my hot pink imitation Crocs to find a good portion of my red tomato eaten. It was still hanging on the vine but whatever ate it really dug in and enjoyed. The outrage! While I’d been waiting and watching something else had been waiting and watching. unfortunately, I discovered the something is a fat arrogant raccoon. For rats I’d let the dogs out or set traps. A raccoon is a game changer. Their mean. But I’m not giving up, even if it means moving the tomatoes to the garage at night. Did I mention they are in containers? Not big enough ones, but next year. At least this year I used good soil.

So like my tomatoes, my whole life feels like a WIP, a work in process. Though my hypothyroidism numbers are looking good, I still battle with not feeling great. I can now exercise without immediately falling asleep but the Zumba classes still kick my butt and I had to think twice about the Pump class I’ve been wanting to start. I’m settling for a short walk every day. For now. I know I need to exercise to get my stamina up but the couch is often more inviting.

And as for the writing? Well, I’m trying to learn to be happy with what I do get done and not harp on myself for what I should have gotten done.