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The going has been rough lately. Too many complainers, more remodeling work than could possibly be accomplished by two people, flopped recipes for supper, and garden plants with curling, blighty leaves. And the weather. Monday and Tuesday were hot, so dense and uncomfortable it was all I could do not to sweat standing still.

But then there was Wednesday. I got home from work, and the cool air outside the car felt like a sigh of relief. I hurried to check the plants in my garden, hopeful that at least they had profited from our temporary tropical climate. Lo and behold, the seeds had sprouted! Green beans, peas, zucchini and cucumbers were bravely reaching tiny green leaves toward the sun. I fawned over them, inspecting their little shoots and marveling at how something as simple as poking a seed into the dirt with my finger could produce these wonders of creation. I checked my "cheater" plants, too - the ones I had purchased in pots at the garden center. The tomatoes' leaves still seemed to be suffering, the edges curling and gray in some places, but they were getting bigger and looked a little healthier I thought.

Heading home to my apartment, I decided it was the perfect night for chocolate cake to celebrate my small green accomplishments. With each window flung wide, birdsong and sunshine streaming through the screens, I set to work. A recipe from the Barefoot Contessa was too good to pass up, with a cup of fresh brewed coffee stirred in right at the end. The scent of warm chocolate permeated the corners of the apartment, chasing out musty, humid smells locked in while the hot air forced us to stay closed tight.

Content, I sat at my computer reading emails. Junk. Junk. Junk. A note from my editor in chief: Two of my stories are on the front page this week, above the fold! "Thanks for all your hard work — it is being noticed and appreciated by the community." How could he have possibly known that I've been feeling like maybe I can't handle freelancing for the paper with everything else that's going on? It's like he has ESP and knew exactly what to say at the right moment. Now I'm smiling from ear to ear and in love with the idea that I have business cards that say "Staff Writer" on them. This guy is good.

When my cake was cool, I whipped chocolate buttercream frosting until my arms were tired, and spread it on the cake an inch thick. Perfect.

And then, not wanting to ask too much of just one day, I went to bed. And the breeze blew through the curtains, frogs singing me to sleep.