The Succulent Will Survive (Probably)

Easter weekend. No class, no running club, no agenda. Sophie from next door has this succulent she's been nursing back from the dead since February, she overwatered it, which, same, and somehow the two of us ended up spending half of Sunday afternoon on her porch deciding its fate.

There's a very specific kind of afternoon that only exists in April. The light goes gold around four o'clock, everything smells like cut grass and someone's dinner two streets over, and you realize you have been sitting in a chair for ninety minutes and it has felt like fifteen. Sophie made iced tea from a mix and we talked about nothing important and it was exactly what I needed. The class stuff, the draft document I keep opening and rearranging, the general hum of trying to figure out what I'm actually doing with my life, none of it came with me to that porch.

Succulent triage, Easter weekend edition.

The succulent, for the record, is not doing great. One side has gone soft and a little translucent, which Sophie says is a bad sign, and I said maybe it just needed a change of scenery and she moved it to the railing. We both agreed this was probably not the fix but it felt like progress.

I keep filing little moments like this under 'not for the blog' before I even get home. Then I sit down and write about them anyway. I think that's just what I do now.