Out of the Debauched Sloth
Chaz Brenchley's ongoingly uncertain newsletter
“The bad news is nothing lasts forever,
The good news is nothing lasts forever.”
— J. Cole
As witness: the steady downpours of this very wet winter seem at last to have petered out. This is probably a good thing, by and large. Rains after drought are a good and necessary thing in themselves, obvs, but we are already seeing severe and deadly floods, and the (record-breakingly deep) snowpack hasn’t even started melting yet. Fun times.
The most exciting new thing hereabouts is that I have invested in some little grow-lights for my chilli hatchlings in their clubhouse nursery, in hopes that they will thrive in this new regime. Light and warmth together: until now it was pretty much either/or, and they were not doing well at all. (Is it ironic, that I’ve had much more trouble growing chillies here in lovely hot dry California than I ever did in cold grey shivery Britain? I think it probably is, yes.)
Also I’m starting to get serious work done in the garden, and about time too. It’s this time of year that I am always determined to do more, better, bigger out there; the feeling rarely lasts, but it’s worth surfing the wave while it’s there.
I am waffling about the garden and so forth because—you may have guessed?—I really have no writing-related news for you at all this fortnight. In honesty, I have not been writing much since last you heard from me; life obstructs art, I find. It’s like rock paper scissors, only there are only the two elements and thus always the same result. Hey-ho.
Anyway: this is all the news that is the case. As this is quite often the case, I’m hoping to elide this newsletter into something closer to a blog, find other things to talk about: which is going to mean food and drink and gardening, mostly, likely. Sorry ’bout that. News as it happens, obvs.
’Til two weeks—