Tuesday, September 04, 2012

first day


Breakfast today? It’s a toss up! Lee’s flowers at the kitchen table tell me – inside!


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But everything, everything else shouts – the porch!

I’m up early. Three classes today and the first one begins at 9:30. I tell myself I will not rush, but I do rush, even as I start the routines of a new semester at 4 a.m. This is the way it is and I am ready for it.

On the porch I tell Ed – a "first day of classes" picture! Take one? And he does, quickly, as if to take into account the faster pace.


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And then I’m off. It’s a Rosie day, a beautiful, warm, very warm morning. And still, as I zip by, I notice that the soy is taking on that September gold tone that says we are no longer in the summer season...


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I scoot by the lakes (without traffic, you can do the photo straight from Rosie’s seat)...


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I turn toward campus, I park and walk up to school and the day begins.

And because it’s the first day, three classes seems like a lot, so that by mid afternoon I’m spent. Like that student outside my office window who looks like she’s not quite with her full energies yet.


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In the late, late afternoon, I take Rosie to Paul’s cafĂ© and Ed meets me there. This is a familiar routine and such a good one and it’s all so serene and peaceful until we speculate about future travels. Ed talks about taking it down a notch. Less predictability, more adventure. On the first day of teaching, I can’t quite wrap my mind around travel where there isn’t a water source, a light bulb, a clean sheet over a bed. And this is what happens when I'm immersed in work again and Ed stays home – I look ahead toward a lighter, saner, easier day, while he itches to infuse it with challenge.

We have to shut down our planning. It’s going nowhere and besides, it’s 95 degrees outside. 95! So the flowers need water and tomorrow’s class needs work and, too, there are the tomatoes – more of them, to sort, wash, freeze, cook.

But those are good, kind routines. I like holding that hose once more – the quiet of it, the discovery that accompanies my movement from one bed to the next. Here, did you know I still get the occasional lilies?


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We end with tomato corn bisque. Reheated. Yes, throw in some fresh herbs from the garden and kernels from an ear of corn and call it a meal. 

Do you want popcorn? - he asks late at night. Every person has their own perfect plate of food to offer. Ed's is popcorn, from a bag, done just so. Shared, late at night. An important reminder -- this is what we share, this is what we love.