Not Quite Eden

Emil looks out kitchen window while Scott and I sit by fire with a friend before supper on the weekend.

And then there are days when I have had it up to my eyebrows and if I could just find a halfway appealing door to escape through, I’d swing it wide open and make my exit. It’s not as if this is the only place in the world where I can see starlit sky from my doorstep and watch the moon make its path across my window as I lie on my pillow at night. There are quiet gravel roads to walk on all over this country, and wild birds are everywhere, and sometimes I feel so weighted down by all my own “stuff” that I could walk away from the piles of it without looking back and with very little regret. I don’t hang dirty laundry out here for all to see, but there is just as much of it in my life as in anyone else’s. Some days plain suck.

Not today, mind you. Today has been very pleasant. I didn't go to to Kelvington with Scott, though I could've. I've been working with him all week and gaining renewed admiration for the man's strength and skills on the job. What can I say; I always did like a man in a toolbelt. As a go-fer I save him countless steps and am happy to do it, but the heat really takes it out of me.

The siding on the upper part of the bungalow was finished yesterday, and today the boys will be digging up the soil around the foundation before adding styrofoam sheathing and vertical siding to complete the job. Extreme heat and humidity were forecast again, and I just couldn't make myself go along unless they really needed me. I'm not good at digging to start with, but add in this weather and ... no thank you, not if I could wangle out of it. Which I could. That's the beauty of living with the boss.

Instead I got the dishes done. They've been sitting on the kitchen counter bothering me (not enough, obviously) since Tuesday, when I baked caramel corn and got only half the dishes washed afterward. I've been too tired in the evenings since then, and so has everyone else in the house. Everett's been on his feet all day at his job, too, and when Scott and I arrive home and I collapse (or go water my poor parched flowerbeds first), he goes out to work in the field till dark! Gak! There must be some secret energy pills he keeps well hidden.

So instead of toiling in the heat, even in the shade, I've whipped up another treat this morning for the Saturday market, and had a leisurely bath, and got a load of towels washed and into the dryer, and seared a roast and put it into the slowcooker for Scott's supper. It's the least I could do, and Everett and I will find something else to eat. And, since I was awake for no good reason between 3 and 5 a.m., I've even lain on the couch for a wee rest. No sleep, but a rest nevertheless. Can't ask for more than that in the middle of the day, can we?