It's Saturday and I have very little idea where all those empty hours I anticipated having went. A bunch were spent finishing the last rental chore, and more went walking with Dusty, lunching with Abby, two nights' knitting, a dive club meeting, oh, and a funeral, but there were more hours than that, surely. I didn't get the yards mowed one last time. I haven't made apple and apple/pear sauce--yet, but I've got one more day. I cleaned the bathroom, changed the sheets, did some laundry, knitted some, planted all the bulbs. I didn't get any of the articles I need to get done soon, one's due in 3 days, maybe that one'll get done while the apples cook tomorrow. Writing it all out like this makes me feel better about getting stuff accomplished, maybe I have an unrealistic idea of how much I can do in a mere 7 days?
November 12--Kaui, Hawaii. The cliffs on the Na Pali coast are young, so young that they look like green saw teeth jutting into the sky. The green is a fuzz of pioneer plants like mosses that make the most of the tiny flakes of wind-blown soil that collects in the rough places. There are no trees yet, not any bushes either, just the low carpet of green that soaks up the rain like a sponge and clutches every grain of soil for dear life. Ali had taken one look at the jagged rocks and unforgiving angles and opted out of the summit hide in favor of a snorkeling tour with that cute guy from the watersports center.
I'm with her. I'd much rather be in the water than sweating on a rock, wouldn't you? I'm staying indoors on this chilly, windy day teaching my son to knit and baking him a birthday chocolate cake. I'd share a piece but I don't think I could slice it thinly enough to slip into that slot over on the side of the laptop. Sorry.
--Barbara
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