Transitions

It happens so fast. One minute you're grieving the loss of an 8 year relationship, the security of knowing he can handle any disaster; a flooded basement, a dead possum, the wireless Internet connection. One minute you miss his warm body next to you in bed then before you know it you're contemplating who will occupy that empty space.

As if to mock the state of desolation your garden thrives as if it were located in the lush rain forests of the tropics rather than Northern New Jersey. The Joseph's Coat roses, named for their glorious show of petals that start out orange, merge into salmon then fade into a vicious pink, clamber over the fence as enthusiastically as if it were deep summer rather than just late spring. The peonies bloomed so early you had only 1 week to enjoy their fragrant wispy blooms the size of large grapefruits. And the mint! Good lord the mint has already grown to nipple height, increasing their sensual, beguiling allure. But I don't have to tell that to my friends or the dog. He tramples through the mint bed to cool his smelly, popcorn scented feet. My friends embrace the cool, herby stalks for Mojitos or chutney. Or like my friend Barbara, to writhe upon in ecstatic frenzy, like a person with human catnip.

Books you start reading: how to cook for 1. Emails you begin paying attention to: eHarmony and Chemistry.com. You begin to wonder if Facebook could be a good thing...