Saturday, October 10, 2015

Fall Day Off

What a perfect day! Heaven surely isn't better than this.

The wind was whispering in the poplars:

You couldn't stay indoors if you tried.
I pulled the tomato and the green pepper out of this planter, and scared two mice out from under it.

They, however, didn't shriek. They just bolted into the flowerbed where I was about to start pruning.
I had second thoughts, believe me, about continuing.

It's so nice out, I went for two strolls. Long, leisurely ones.
In the late afternoon, I put some wild rice (and beef) sausages into a frying pan to cook slowly for Scott. And me? Raisin rye bread with cheddar was my supper:

I've been eating a lot of raisin rye bread since baking eight loaves of it on Tuesday:

It's nearly seven and Scott is not home yet. He expected to be combining only till dark and thought we could go to Bev and Paul's, so that's what we'll do.

I went out to the shed and filled a cardboard box with chopped wood to take along. Then I was inspired to dig out our burning bowl so we can have a fire here one of these days. And I didn't get to a lake yet this summer either. What the hell! The things I like best, and I don't do them? It's foolish.

Out beyond the barn

Scott (?) had built a bale house in the barn, for the cat, and stuck the burning bowl behind it. I had to climb up and then down behind it and get all strawy, ew! But at least with Bob the BarnCat right there, master of his general vicinity, I didn't worry too much about disturbing any mice.

That last hour or two of daylight is always so pretty:

I don't want to go for a third walk at this time, but I go to the end of the driveway a couple times:

It's tempting, isn't it? I almost went again:

Looking Back Lessons

Why, in my journals, do I insist on putting date and time, rain or shine?
When reading back these things, I don’t even glance at the date.

What’s the next journal on the timeline?
Shoot, it’s only May. It’s still 1975 and I’m still at Luther College in Regina.

A lot of complaining, decent writing and what seems to be clear and intelligent though definitely teenage thought, and plenty of playfulness.

That playfulness is still around.

My mission, which I have chosen to accept.

I’ll work my way through the second journal over the next four days off. Most of it isn’t interesting; after all, been there, done that. But I find myself laughing out loud fairly often. Guffawing. Recognizing. Remembering. Gladly farewelling.
And anticipating burning, with some glee.

It’s gorgeous fall weather and Bev has invited us to Kuroki for a bonfire, but Scott is combining and we can commit to nought.