Low Energy Day

Man, I had a terrible time moving today.  Just didn't have any oomph.  I had to go to the pharmacy drive-thru for a prescription and that was the extent of my accomplishments for the day.

 

To make more of a liar out of me than before, two lilies bloomed today.  This orange tiger lily was on a stem higher than my head so I was lucky to get it in the frame as well as I did.

 

 

And down the retaining wall a bit was another Stella d'Oro lily shining out of the weeds.

 

 

 

 Hunkered down a ways on the wall was this clump of rudbeckia, aka Black-eyed Susans.  The yellow/orange end of the spectrum seems to be the main one we have showing off these days.

 

I picked three more tomatoes.  One of them was ready to be eaten, so I had that sliced on my supper spicy black bean burger, the other two need to ripen a bit but they won't go to waste.  I'm enjoying the Roma tomatoes, they're juicy but not too seedy and the flesh is firm.  Tasty.

 

The setting sun painted the clouds pink and purple tonight.  This isn't as good as a full-on sunset picture but it's the best I can do with all the leaves on the trees in the way.

 

 

09 August--Barbara Malcolm, Better Than Mom's. 

The next morning every time the door of the diner opened Fay’s head turned so fast to see if it was Naomi that even Raymond, who was the most self-absorbed of men, noticed. 

“Who do you keep looking for, Fay?  Your boyfriend?” 

She shook her head.  “No, you old coot, I am hoping a friend, a girl friend, stops in soon.”  She looked at her watch.  “Man, the time is sure moving slowly today.”  She lifted the full bus tub from under the counter with a grunt, carried it back into the kitchen and loaded the dirty dishes into a dishwasher tray. 

Brady looked up from the griddle.  “Is your friend coming in?”

 Fay shrugged her bony shoulders.  “She said she would.  Maybe she lost her nerve.” 

“I do not think so,” Brady said, looking out the pass through.  He was transfixed by the vision that had just walked into his diner.  A tall woman stood just inside the door, regal and proud, dressed in an actual dress and a hat.  “I think your friend just walked in.  She looks like a queen,” he said, wonder in his voice. 

“Oh shit,” said Fay, wiping her hands on her apron.  “I wanted to be out there to greet her.”  Her hand patted the side of her head.  “How does my hair look?” 

“Oh, for Christ’s sake, Fay, she is the one coming for an interview, not you.” 

“I know, Brady, but I want this for her so much I feel like it is me being interviewed.” 

Brady watched from his safe spot behind the griddle as Fay shouldered her way through the swinging doors.  Her practiced waitress’ eye checked the level of coffee in the mugs along the counter as she sailed by.  She was a bit intimidated by the regal appearance of the woman she had only seen wearing sweats or jeans in the past.  “Naomi, I am so glad you decided to come in.”  She leaned closer.  “Are you sure you want to cook in your nice dress?” she said in a whisper. 

Naomi lifted her purse slightly.  “I brought my own apron; the dress will be fine.” 

Fay turned to address the few people in the diner.  “Hey, everybody, this here is my friend Naomi.  She is going to make you all a little treat.”  A chorus of grunts and a single “hey” greeted that announcement. 

Naomi poked her.  “Now, why did you go and do that?  Talk about putting me on the spot.” 

Fay shrugged.  “I just thought that if the customers like what you cook today, Brady is sure to give you the job.”  She rubbed her arm.  “Sorry.” 

Fay pushed the door to the kitchen open with her hip and motioned for Naomi to go in first.  She stepped up behind her friend and said, “Brady, this is my neighbor Naomi Cushing I told you about.  Naomi, this is my boss Brady Gallagher.” 

She watched as Brady wiped his hand on his apron and extended it toward Naomi.  “How do you do?  Fay, why don’t you go and see if anyone needs any coffee?” 

“Well, I, uh, sure, Brady, I will.” 

             Surprisingly glad to leave the kitchen, Fay went back to her familiar turf and poured everyone coffee, whether they wanted it or not, and straightened the newspapers that the codgers had strewn down the counter.  “I swear your wives must go crazy if you all are this messy at home,” she scolded them.   

               She did not realize she was holding her breath until she heard Naomi say something and then Brady’s braying laugh float out the pass through.  She felt the air whoosh out between her lips and her shoulders relaxed back to normal.  It was as if sound and movement returned in Fay’s perception.  She heard the radio as if someone had just turned it on.  The rustle of turning pages of newsprint became obvious.  The everyday sounds of Raymond pontificating and refuting someone’s opinion came back into focus.  The final distraction came when a couple of strangers, obviously tourists from the expensive look of their clothes, came in and hesitated when they were confronted with the overt hominess of the place. 

Today's toss was a soap dish with fish on it and the corn stick cast iron cornbread pan.  I always wanted to make cornbread in that pan and it inevitably stuck in the mold so I ended up with cornbread crumbs.  Very frustrating so it no longer deserves house room.

I spent most of the day reading a book.  The rest of the day I spent unraveling a shawl I tried knitting a few years ago and got terribly frustrated with when every row was different.  I gave up after 125 rows and I wasn't even a quarter finished.  I turned the yarn back into balls and will knit it into something else.

--Barbara