Sunday, November 11, 2012
nature's ways
I've said this before -- we don't have just good weather days or bad weather days. Systems move through randomly, suddenly. A morning may be breezy and warm and by afternoon -- wet, miserably wet and cold. Today, forecasts were made along those lines. Toasty and dry in the morning, chilly and wet in the afternoon. When I started in on Sunday housecleaning routines, my still sleepy guy glanced outside and reminded me that we hadn't quite finished our clipping and chopping down of honeysuckle yesterday.
Finished! Who is he kidding? We can't finish! In addition to the shrubs that have taken hold in the pririe, we have monster honeysuckle along the edge of the property and they extend well beyond. Most every prairie and forest around here suffers from an explosion of honeysuckle. But, he is right: we could at least try to contain it on the farmette land. We started last spring, we may as well continue.
And so before breakfast, before finishing the cleaning operations at the farmhouse, we head out under tumultuous but thus far dry skies.
right now, if it's green, it's honeysuckle
And Ed turns ambitious. It happens: a small project grows and becomes something grand and therefore overwhelming. He has his eye on that monster honeysuckle at the tree line. Out comes the power saw.
Me, I stick with the I stick with the waist high bushes that have invaded our prairie. I'm thinking how last week I quoted a forest ranger to my class -- Nature is very unforgiving! -- he had said. (It was a Torts class and we were talking about people who go adventuring, sustain injuries, then sue.) My thoughts stray to nature's fickle habits and as I continue slashing (but not burning -- that'll happen next spring), I nearly stumble on a skull. Deer? Teeth look good, even if the poor animal did succumb to some menace or other.
And now I'm tired. But Ed's task is so huge and he would benefit from some assistance and so we persevere. We tug, slash, saw and heave and then I can do no more. I want my morning coffee! Even though it's no longer morning.
And as we call it quits, the rains come down. I mean, really comes down. Furiously so.
We stay indoors. I finish cleaning and look up to notice that it's almost time for my late afternoon yoga class. And from that I move to quick dinner prep (my girl and her husband come over, still happy, still in love, still delightful).
As I take laundry out and put dishes away and as Ed, yet again, attempts to understand the malfunctioning water heater, I think how easy it is to give away a whole weekend to physical labor. We did just that! It's a good way for me to restore balance. Kind of like yoga class, only without the mat.
Finished! Who is he kidding? We can't finish! In addition to the shrubs that have taken hold in the pririe, we have monster honeysuckle along the edge of the property and they extend well beyond. Most every prairie and forest around here suffers from an explosion of honeysuckle. But, he is right: we could at least try to contain it on the farmette land. We started last spring, we may as well continue.
And so before breakfast, before finishing the cleaning operations at the farmhouse, we head out under tumultuous but thus far dry skies.
right now, if it's green, it's honeysuckle
And Ed turns ambitious. It happens: a small project grows and becomes something grand and therefore overwhelming. He has his eye on that monster honeysuckle at the tree line. Out comes the power saw.
Me, I stick with the I stick with the waist high bushes that have invaded our prairie. I'm thinking how last week I quoted a forest ranger to my class -- Nature is very unforgiving! -- he had said. (It was a Torts class and we were talking about people who go adventuring, sustain injuries, then sue.) My thoughts stray to nature's fickle habits and as I continue slashing (but not burning -- that'll happen next spring), I nearly stumble on a skull. Deer? Teeth look good, even if the poor animal did succumb to some menace or other.
And now I'm tired. But Ed's task is so huge and he would benefit from some assistance and so we persevere. We tug, slash, saw and heave and then I can do no more. I want my morning coffee! Even though it's no longer morning.
And as we call it quits, the rains come down. I mean, really comes down. Furiously so.
We stay indoors. I finish cleaning and look up to notice that it's almost time for my late afternoon yoga class. And from that I move to quick dinner prep (my girl and her husband come over, still happy, still in love, still delightful).
As I take laundry out and put dishes away and as Ed, yet again, attempts to understand the malfunctioning water heater, I think how easy it is to give away a whole weekend to physical labor. We did just that! It's a good way for me to restore balance. Kind of like yoga class, only without the mat.
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