Sweet Potato Vine

I've been on hiatus, taking a little respite. This searching business can get exhausting.

My friend, Eustacia, is more harsh. She calls it futile. She doesn't believe you can look for love. It comes looking for you and the trick, she says, is to be ready for it.

Even though I don't agree, I've been devoting these last few weeks to doing a good spring-cleaning. I fixed the fridge, got a new garbage disposal, planted impatience and sweet potato vines in the flower boxes on the balcony.

My closet witnessed a ruthless makeover with any item that didn't sing tossed into the Goodwill bag. My hairdresser gave me long bangs, then I went and got a pedicure.

Meanwhile, I've been weeding my social garden. It was long overgrown and seriously needed a thinning out, but instead of using a back hoe, a hand spade might have been a wiser choice. Or at least a less drastic one. From a dozen calls a day from friends, I'm now lucky if I get one.

But instead of feeling sorry for myself, I've decided to pretend as if I'd just moved in. As the stranger in town, I'd try all kinds of new things, be open to all kinds of new people. I'd be patient with myself and when come evening, I found myself on on my own, I wouldn't think, 'what's wrong with me?' but place my bets on change and maybe just for fun toss purple pansies into the dinner salad.