Predictably perhaps, I did not succumb to total inertia. I did not do nothing.
But it was a quiet day. No rush. Not here and not where Ed is sailing. (He tells me this morning: we're heading out soon, but there is no wind. Absolutely zero. We have to use the motor. He does not like to have to use the motor.)
Every now and then thoughts that began with the words "I must" or "I should" would tumble around in my head, but I dismiss them. I have instead a "why bother" attitude about anything requiring effort.
Oh sure, I do have to do the morning farmette chores and it always surprises me how long it all takes! Two hours tending to plants and beasts. I mean, really, two hours!
(the tail end of the lily blooms...)
(a climbing clematis flower: just a handful of blooms this year; I'm hoping for gazillions next year)
(in late summer, the annual cosmos can hold a garden together, but they're vulnerable to winds and often topple under the weight of their own fowers)
(a huge and bushy cosmos fell during the recent rain storm... it decorates this morning's breakfast table)
It's Saturday and so I meet up with my daughter and Snowdrop to walk over to the farmers market. Since I've succumbed to cooking, even in Ed's absence, I have a lot to stock up on. The obvious stuff: baby potatoes, corn, beans, greens, pretty little tomatoes -- you know, August loveliness.
(there's Gaga!!)
\
Grandma, I want you to take a picture of me!
After our walk around the square, past all the market stalls, we pause on the green grass, sitting quietly. No one wants to run, romp or frolic with abandon. We sit. And do... well, pretty much nothing.
(We do admire August market flowers. I over-buy. They're irrisistable!)
And I do have to grocery shop in the afternoon. I couldn't fit it into the week, so it has to be today.
(carrying the groceries into the house, I pause to admire the last of the porch-side lilies...)
And too, I have to fiddle with my computer to get it to spark up and perform. Yes, there is that.
But I do not rush. I make no effort to make a dent in my to-do list. I do not clean the house, weed the yard (much), and I eat left-overs for dinner.
(the late summer garden is no less beautiful than the emergent garden...)
The day is warm. The breezes have died down. The air is still. And so am I. For a little while anyway.
But it was a quiet day. No rush. Not here and not where Ed is sailing. (He tells me this morning: we're heading out soon, but there is no wind. Absolutely zero. We have to use the motor. He does not like to have to use the motor.)
Every now and then thoughts that began with the words "I must" or "I should" would tumble around in my head, but I dismiss them. I have instead a "why bother" attitude about anything requiring effort.
Oh sure, I do have to do the morning farmette chores and it always surprises me how long it all takes! Two hours tending to plants and beasts. I mean, really, two hours!
(the tail end of the lily blooms...)
(a climbing clematis flower: just a handful of blooms this year; I'm hoping for gazillions next year)
(in late summer, the annual cosmos can hold a garden together, but they're vulnerable to winds and often topple under the weight of their own fowers)
(a huge and bushy cosmos fell during the recent rain storm... it decorates this morning's breakfast table)
It's Saturday and so I meet up with my daughter and Snowdrop to walk over to the farmers market. Since I've succumbed to cooking, even in Ed's absence, I have a lot to stock up on. The obvious stuff: baby potatoes, corn, beans, greens, pretty little tomatoes -- you know, August loveliness.
(there's Gaga!!)
\Grandma, I want you to take a picture of me!
After our walk around the square, past all the market stalls, we pause on the green grass, sitting quietly. No one wants to run, romp or frolic with abandon. We sit. And do... well, pretty much nothing.
(We do admire August market flowers. I over-buy. They're irrisistable!)
And I do have to grocery shop in the afternoon. I couldn't fit it into the week, so it has to be today.
(carrying the groceries into the house, I pause to admire the last of the porch-side lilies...)
And too, I have to fiddle with my computer to get it to spark up and perform. Yes, there is that.
But I do not rush. I make no effort to make a dent in my to-do list. I do not clean the house, weed the yard (much), and I eat left-overs for dinner.
(the late summer garden is no less beautiful than the emergent garden...)
The day is warm. The breezes have died down. The air is still. And so am I. For a little while anyway.
