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This morning I decided that from now on I’m going to wear my most expensive jeans in the studio. I pulled on my ratty sweater and went down the back stairs to the kitchen. I slipped on my rubber boots and opened the door to the garden. I’m grateful for the quiet clear morning, Fall feels both ominous and a relief. The air is crisp. Geese fly in formation overhead. I squat by the tufts of parsley, still sprouting, resting my metal bowl on the raised bed. Half the yard is covered in straw. Underneath are rows of garlic, equally spaced. A few weeks ago my lanky husband speared rows of holes in the ground with a rake handle. I waddled low to the ground behind him, my pockets full of pa

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