Mindy Carlson

Y’all, March did not go like I hoped. I had intended to send out a newsletter last week and do a blog post, but here we are. In the last days of the month as March continues to make up its mind as to whether or not it’s going to let spring arrive.

I, for one, am more than ready for spring.

I am ready for planting of flowers and potatoes and snap peas. I’m ready for walks outside without a coat. I’m ready to wear my new Chuck Taylor slip-on shoes without socks. I’m ready for a chilled glass of rosé wine on my patio.

I’m ready for May Cobb’s new book My Summer Darlings to come out because I desperately need to talk to someone about it because OMG! It’s a domestic thriller coming out in May and I’ll be interviewing her for The Big Thrill magazine in April. This interview is going to be challenging because it feels like every bit of the book is a delicious spoiler. This book is going to be a wonderful beach read. Pack it with my novel and you’ll have a nice vacation week of cozy domestic thrillers.

I finished reading it up at a lovely cottage in southern Massachusetts that we rent for the weekend of the Norfolk, CT Junior Bonspiel. It’s a converted schoolhouse and it’s got a chic yet cozy charm that is perfect for letting a mind unwind into the creative work of editing; which is what I was doing when I wasn’t watching the boys compete in the curling tournament or going to Northampton to visit a favorite cousin.

That favorite cousin took me to Paul’s Sugar House where maple sap is boiled into maple syrup. It was amazing to have the entire process explained and the building smelled like a pancake breakfast. Then she introduced me to maple cream pie and now I’m on a quest to find a great maple cream pie recipe because that was a flavor I’d like to keep in my mouth. She also fed me a spinach and mushroom quiche that was to die for and drove me to all her favorite haunts, including a bookshop next to Smith College where I bought a copy of poems by Mary Oliver.

And found this gem inside her book called The Old Poets of China.

Wherever I am, the world comes after me.

It offers me its busyness. It does not believe

that I do not want it. Now I understand

why the old poets of China went so far and high

into the mountains, then crept into pale mist.

                                    ~ Mary Oliver

Today I do not want the world’s busyness. Today I want to climb into the mountains and take my own creative journey and escape March.

But I’ll be back tomorrow.