Good Timing

Thinking that I might as well get it over with, I went out this morning with the leaf blower and a rake to get the majority of the leaves gathered up and dragged to the curb.  I raked out all the leaves that had blown onto the patio over the weekend and then used the leaf blower to clean off the lawn a bit.  I hauled three tarps full of leaves to the curb and then raked the drift of them from the edge of the driveway.  Not an hour after I went in to fix my lunch the city leaf collector guys came by and whisked them away.  Good timing!

The Downy Woodpecker was back at the suet pellets today and somehow I got a very clear picture of it.  I have no idea why on some days the picture isn't as clear and sharp as it was today but I'm not complaining.  I'm a big fan of the sharp lines of the Downy's feather design.

This afternoon was ice cream portioning time.  I'm very proud of myself for not over-serving myself and having the self-control to portion it out when I really just want to scoop out a great big bunch of ice cream and gobble it right up.  One carton of Edy's Slow Churned made 13 little servings when it would have been so easy to eat four big bowls full and make it go away.  I'm hanging onto control by my fingernails these days.

03 November--Barbara Malcolm, The Seaview. 

Just as I was thinking it was probably getting around to lunchtime, Johnno came walking down the road with a basket in his hands.  “Yo, Rosie, I brought lunch for the working folks.”  He was laughing at his cleverness at calling me Rosie.  His big happy face lightened my mood and the aroma wafting from the basket lifted me right off my stool.

“What did you bring?” I said trying to peer in to see what smelled so good.

“You just be patient.”  He pulled the basket away so that I couldn’t see in, then he turned his head and shouted, “Silas, Edward, get out here before your employer eats all the food.”

We heard four feet making fast tracks for the back of the hotel.  I poured a bit of water into an old metal basin so that we could clean our hands and faces.

While we washed up a bit, Johnno turned a wooden crate on its end and balanced half a sheet of plywood on top of it.  He whipped a bright cotton cloth out of his basket, covered the raw wood, and began putting out the food.  I couldn’t believe my eyes at the feast that emerged.  Hot curried goat rolled in warm flatbread with a creamy yogurt sauce that reminded me of the Greek tzatziki sauce you get on gyros, thick slices of succulent pink watermelon framed by its deep green rind, and a pitcher of mango ice tea with sprigs of fresh mint in it.

I sat down on my nail-pulling stool unable to believe my eyes.  “Johnno, this is… well, I really appreciate this.”

Edward and Silas scrounged up a couple more crates to sit on and dug in.  Johnno leaned on the tree trunk and watched us inhale his wonderful food.  I tried between mouthfuls to thank him over and over but he just laughed.

“Rosie, I do not want you to get the idea that Sandy Ground is not a safe place for you to build your new life.  I remember when you and Mr. Jim came down to vacation.  You would sit just outside the bar, leaning on my wall watching the sun go down, and I heard you two dreaming and making plans.  I was sorry to hear that Mr. Jim had passed so suddenly but I am real glad to have you here.”

Tears filled my eyes and it felt like I had a bit of watermelon stuck in my throat.  “Oh, Johnno, thank you for that.  I’ve felt awfully alone and wondered if I had made a huge mistake.  Now that I am well-fed and these two have the repairs back in control, things are looking up.”  I drained my glass of tea.  “If the freighter comes next week with my container and the Customs men have not, um, relocated any of the contents we can get started.  Oh, do you know a licensed electrician?  I want a professional.”

He gave me a look and pointed at Silas.  “He has helped me…”

Silas interrupted.  “She wants a pro, Dad, just call Uncle Iggy and see if he’s busy tomorrow.”

Today's toss was a couple more shirts that tried to hide in the back of my closet.

I realized today that I hate raking more than I hate vacuuming and I don't hate blowing snow.  Maybe because my lawn is too big for easy raking, but I just hate raking.  The leaves stick to the grass and I have to go over and over an area to get them up so I blow what will blow and the rest I call mulch.  That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

--Barbara