Like so many other avid gardeners, I run out of gardening steam toward the end of summer. In fact, Ed had picked up a fresh load of beautiful wood chips a few days back and each day he has asked me where I'd like them distributed. I have no more gardening imagination. I don't know, I tell him.
But today I worked hard to change my attitude. After a thorough farmhouse cleaning and a late breakfast...
... my sweet gardening companion had that inquisitive look in his eye again and I remembered how pleasant it is when we work together outdoors.
And so we unloaded chips and admired the occasional bloom...
... and I felt so content and deeply grateful that we have made such progress in our outdoor work this year. I'll still be trimming the yard with a winter plant cut, but for now, I can sit back and say -- we're more or less done for the year.
The afternoon is cloudy and not too inviting and so we spend many hours staring at the porch door frame and imagining that it is a lighter shade and wondering why it isn't a lighter shade.
After, we turn to our airline and miles dilemma. We all know by now that Ed does not want to travel -- at least not without camping gear and who knows what other adventuring paraphernalia. And yet he has accumulated miles in his Air France account and because he has been sitting still, the miles are about to expire. Unless someone (like me!) uses them soon. And so we spend the many necessary hours booking a trip for me for next month, under the deadline so to speak. (It takes a long long time to accomplish a miles purchase through Air France.)
Other bookings follow. Everything about this trip must be on the cheap and I brag to Ed how inexpensive the accommodation I'm booking is. He tells me -- I could easily find something even cheaper.
I groan.
He picks up his computer: here, you could have signed up to stay at a coop and be a student community leader. They'd even give you a few coins for bread and coffee in the morning!
Would you have gone if I had agreed to do that?
No.
Well then, I'll stay in my own cheap room elsewhere.
And then we are back to our lovely normal -- I cling to Ed on his motorbike and we zip to the hidden court for a game (by our own rules) of tennis. The ride, past golden fields and against darkening skies is as beautiful as the game itself...
Then a warm and happy Sunday dinner with the young family...
(Snowdrop always helps me cook)
(mom and babe)
("but I want to help you, grandma!")
(time for the p.j.s... and home)
... and finally, a quiet evening on the couch.
A productive Sunday. A lovely Sunday. The harvest moon is out and shining on us all tonight.
But today I worked hard to change my attitude. After a thorough farmhouse cleaning and a late breakfast...
... my sweet gardening companion had that inquisitive look in his eye again and I remembered how pleasant it is when we work together outdoors.
And so we unloaded chips and admired the occasional bloom...
... and I felt so content and deeply grateful that we have made such progress in our outdoor work this year. I'll still be trimming the yard with a winter plant cut, but for now, I can sit back and say -- we're more or less done for the year.
The afternoon is cloudy and not too inviting and so we spend many hours staring at the porch door frame and imagining that it is a lighter shade and wondering why it isn't a lighter shade.
After, we turn to our airline and miles dilemma. We all know by now that Ed does not want to travel -- at least not without camping gear and who knows what other adventuring paraphernalia. And yet he has accumulated miles in his Air France account and because he has been sitting still, the miles are about to expire. Unless someone (like me!) uses them soon. And so we spend the many necessary hours booking a trip for me for next month, under the deadline so to speak. (It takes a long long time to accomplish a miles purchase through Air France.)
Other bookings follow. Everything about this trip must be on the cheap and I brag to Ed how inexpensive the accommodation I'm booking is. He tells me -- I could easily find something even cheaper.
I groan.
He picks up his computer: here, you could have signed up to stay at a coop and be a student community leader. They'd even give you a few coins for bread and coffee in the morning!
Would you have gone if I had agreed to do that?
No.
Well then, I'll stay in my own cheap room elsewhere.
And then we are back to our lovely normal -- I cling to Ed on his motorbike and we zip to the hidden court for a game (by our own rules) of tennis. The ride, past golden fields and against darkening skies is as beautiful as the game itself...
Then a warm and happy Sunday dinner with the young family...
(Snowdrop always helps me cook)
(mom and babe)
("but I want to help you, grandma!")
(time for the p.j.s... and home)
... and finally, a quiet evening on the couch.
A productive Sunday. A lovely Sunday. The harvest moon is out and shining on us all tonight.
