Monday, July 13, 2009

What is Now

There is something to be said for contemplative time - quite a lot, actually. After the hurly-burly of the school year, the early risings, the hurried morning ablutions, the meeting of deadlines and timelines, it is marvelous to sleep until I awaken naturally, to practice yoga before breakfast, to sip my first cup of tea as the first rays of sunlight wash over me, to bring my food to the outdoor table.


I am surrounded by flowers and green growing things, by songbirds and rooster crows at dawn, by areas of intense sunlight and of deep greeny-black shade. Underneath it all is the silence of the rural countryside, a silence undisturbed by surface noise, a silence that holds the singing brook, the laughter of flowers, the sighing of the wind, the whisper of passing clouds.


Some days I plan projects, on others I let the hours unfold, waiting to see what might happen. I spend a lot of time with books, reading piles of them from the library, picking up paperbacks at tag sales, pulling old favorites from my bookshelves. I write poems that appear sometimes fully formed first thing in the morning. I write entries in my daily journal, make comments in the margins of books. Ideas find their way onto odd slips of paper that I collect and put near my computer.

In the afternoon, after a nap (an hour drifting in dreams) I hop on my one-speed (mine) double-cheek-seat, pedal brake bicycle and tour the neighborhood. One four mile trip takes me through town, another skirts the center of the village altogether, leading me instead past the river and along the edges of cornfields and hay meadows. A third takes me a straight two miles one way and another two back.

On Monday afternoons (and sometimes on Fridays) I spend hours searching the database at the local Historical Society looking for our ancestral link to a Civil War General. I have been writing what family history I know for my children and grandchildren, learning things along that way that might explain my propensity for dreaming rather than doing, my vast affection for the out-of-doors, my need for alone (and contemplative) time.



Fall will come soon enough and with it the return of the rushed mornings, the time-dictated days. For now, I will relish every moment of summer freedom I have, delighting in the morning mist that slows the sunrise, the brief beauty of my garden flowers, the happy splashing of the catbird in the makeshift birdbath, the hours that unwind in shades of gold and green, the quiet time spent with books and pen, the hovering visits of the hummingbird, the dusky silence that greets the evening, the last kiss of sunlight on treetops.

Thursday, July 09, 2009

Summer Night


The sun set tonight in a blaze of peach and apricot and bright vibrant pink. The whole sky was tinged with color and the still water in the pond reflected back with such intensity that it was hard to tell where the real color ended and the reflection began.

On nights such as this, surrounded by a beauty that leaves me breathless, I wonder what it's all for. And I wonder if the fireflies blinking in the gathering dark notice the sunset or if my friend, dead since January, is still somehow aware of all the things about this place he loved - the long warm summer evenings, the way the grass smells just after it's been mowed, the sweet, chilling taste of ice cream, the sound of crickets singing. This was the sort of night he had to be out in, the way I have to be out in it.

In the distance an owl hoots. The mosquitoes whine and bite, driving me inside. Before I go, I look up, up into the darkening sky, searching for some sign I can believe in, some reassurance that there is more to this world than meets the eye. There is comfort in the star shine, comfort in the rising of a familiar moon, comfort in the fact that even if he cannot know it, I am remembering this summer night for both of us.

Wednesday, July 08, 2009

Garden Watch

mint, basil, and lettuces

There is something to be said for having an herb garden right outside the kitchen door. Breakfast eggs are embellished with fresh chives and parsley, as are supper's potatoes. The oregano grows rampant in another section of the garden and seasons, among other things, a delectable eggplant dish made with tomatoes, onions, and Swiss cheese. The lemon mint that is growing to bush size will be transplanted elsewhere for next year. Its leaves find their way into glasses of iced tea. At lunch a few chives added color to a curried chicken salad on a bed of freshly picked lettuce leaves. Tonight fresh dill flavors a cucumber salad.

A rogue squash seed buried in the compost that was spread around the patio to nourish the flowers has grown monstrous and threatens to take over the yard. So far three round globes are forming. The vegetable garden over at the farm is puny this year - too much rain. I did have a fine mess of peas but not enough to freeze, the hail a few weeks ago decimated the spinach and the peppers and eggplant, though growing, have yet to flower. The tomato plants are enormous and if all goes well the potato crop will be twice what it was last year. Come for iced tea - stay for dinner!


chives, parsley and miniature strawberries

Sunday, July 05, 2009

One Perfect Day

My daughter gave me a gift of scone mix one Christmas, accompanied by a new book, a packet of my favorite tea and a handmade card describing the perfect day: Read, eat, drink, nap. The scones and tea have long since been consumed but today seemed a good time to try out the "perfect day" formula.

It started with pecan waffles and tea...

I cheated a bit and threw in a load of laundry (the sun was shining for the first time in weeks, making it a perfect drying day), ran the vacuum over the floors, and did up the breakfast dishes. Then I grabbed a good book and headed for the screened tent where I spent two delightful hours reading. Of course I had to keep looking up from the pages to admire the flowers and watch the birds splash in the birdbath, and follow the hummingbird's darting wings.

The screen tent is my mosquito-free summer "room"

Lunch was little rounds of crusty bread topped with a drizzle of olive oil, fresh basil from my herb garden, a slice of tomato and another of cheese, all tucked under the broiler until the cheese melted. After lunch I took a bicycle ride up one country road and down another along meadow edges ablaze with daisies and black-eyed susans, under cool, green tree canopies, and always back into the sunshine pouring down from the blue, blue sky.



Home again and back into the tent for a few more pages before giving in to the urge for a nap. Parker the cat curled into the curve of my knees and we both slept for an hour.



Supper will be a turkey burger on a bed of lettuce accompanied by roasted asparagus spears from the garden. Life is better than good - today it was perfect!




waffle photo courtesy of www.readersdigest.com.au. I ate mine before I thought to photograph them! Parker's beautiful face courtesy of Dave Bushell's keen eye.

Thursday, July 02, 2009

Vermont Visit

Lora at 101 and me ducking in before the camera photographed us.

I've been away for a week, visiting my 101 year old friend Lora. We had a busy time together working in her garden, shopping for and preparing meals, organizing her papers at the request of her estate executor and renewing her driver's license. (Hint: if you want a picture on your license from the state of Vermont, you have to have been born AFTER 1908!)

Lora tilled and planted the garden space well before I got there. This is the before look...

and this was how it looked once we'd attacked it with hoe and garden fork.

We actually saw the sun two of the seven days I was there but only saw one sunset.

Saturday, June 13, 2009

One Summer Day

sunset...

The day's work is done. I was on my knees weeding the gardens around the patio at 7:00 this morning. The heavenly blue morning glories have sprouted against the fence, the violets planted in early spring have finished blossoming but their leaves make lovely patches of green. The chives, the basil, the mint, and the oregano are thriving. I have breakfast there very morning and often eat supper there as well.



Two loads of laundry have been washed, line dried, folded, and put away. I mowed the lawn, weeded the vegetable garden and replenished the hummingbird feeder. Cleaning and baking will have to wait until tomorrow's rain keeps me indoors.

there was even time for a nap in my screen house

Friday, June 05, 2009

Vital Statistics


Dick posted his own and asked who's next. Here's my list so now it's my turn to ask... who's next?

I drive
a sporty little Subaru Outback Sport

If I have time for myself
I read, write, draw, take a long walk, nap

You wouldn’t know it but I’m very good at
washing dishes by hand
sewing my own clothes
finding creative new uses for used or discarded things


I’m no good at
math (numbers multiply and divide with impunity)
hurrying (I prefer life in the slow lane)
caring for the sick (I get sick right alongside them)


Books that changed me
The World Without Us by Alan Weisman
Gone With the Wind by Margaret Mitchell
The Collected Poems of Rumi edited by Coleman Barks
Lives of A Cell by Lewis Thomas
Teaching a Stone to Talk by Annie Dillard
Chaos: Making a New Science by James Gleick
Fractals: The Patterns of Chaos by John Briggs
a hundred others (at least)


Movie heaven
Love Actually
Sound of Music
Spirit
Hearts and Souls
Monsters, Inc.
Everafter
etc. etc. etc.
(You can tell I see movies purely for the entertainment factor. If I want to be informed, I read)

Comfort eating
mashed potatoes (preferably with gravy)
macaroni and cheese
pie of any sort (except for banana or raison)
pasta with rich meat sauce


When I was a child I wanted to be

A hermit (sometimes I still do), a writer, a teacher.
(Two out of three isn’t bad.)


All my money goes on
paying off what I owe!

At night I dream of
ridiculous things like driving large vehicles with no brakes, trying to discipline children, or kissing someone I shouldn’t

My favorite buildings
after my childhood homestead? Canterbury Cathedral, the remains of Tintern Abbey in Wales, the “Painted Ladies" near Alamo Square, San Francisco, California

My biggest regret
falling in love with the “wrong” person

If I wasn’t me I’d like to be
someone with a small nose and a very large income

My favorite works of art
the drawings done by my children and grandchildren

The current soundtracks to my life
I’m hopelessly given to oldies (of the 50s and 60s), folk and fiddle tunes, and almost anything classical

The best inventions ever
the bedstead, showerheads, paper and the printing press, the contraption for boiling off maple sap