Busy Day

There was a lot on my calendar today (chiropractor plus lunch with the St. Agnes Class of '65) and I beefed it up with a longer walk, a trip to Joann, and a visit to the Y to work my way around the machines.  When I opened the curtains this morning the sun was up but the clouds were just thick enough that it looked like a copper penny caught in the tree.



On my way back home from my walk I detoured to look at the new bushes CG planted for me.  One of them has beautiful thin purple leaves and it had a cluster of pink flowers on it last week.  I don't know what it is but I'll find out--eventually.  Man, that's a rotten picture.  Sorry.







The pots on the patio are a-bloom too.  I love these big puffball marigolds and the red petunias and lantana.  Also the gray-green leaves of the bleeding heart.

I didn't write and didn't sew.  I knitted a bit but didn't take a picture because it wasn't enough to be noticeable.  I did pick up a friend to have supper with so that kind of took care of my evening.  I made us faux Cobb salads with shredded cabbage, chicken breast, hard-boiled egg, and a scattering of grapes.  Oh, and croutons.

Some days there are a lot of things on here and other days there aren't.

08 July--Barbara Malcolm, Horizon. 

             Two mornings later when I went in to get David up for school, it took a lot of shaking to wake him.  “Get up.  It’s time to get ready for school.”

            He groaned.  “I’m so tired, Grandma.  Can’t I sleep a few more minutes?”

            “I’ve already let you sleep an extra half hour.  Mama said you need to leave at eight-thirty and it’s nearly eight now.  Up and at ‘em, boy.”

            It was a hollow-eyed nine year old who shuffled to the breakfast table a few minutes later, shirt untucked and with one collar point nestled behind his ear.  “Now here’s a sleepyhead if I ever saw one.  Did Elizabeth’s crying wake you?”

            He propped his head on his fist and said, “I think she cried every five minutes all night.”

            I poured his juice, refilled my mug of tea, and sat down across from him.  “I know.  I woke up every time too.  I feel like I’ve been run over by a truck.  Maybe I’ll take a nap.”

            He gave a big sigh.  “You’re lucky, Grandma.”

            I had to keep after him to finish his breakfast, find his backpack, and get out the door on time.  A group of neighbor kids rang the doorbell to walk with him, as they did every day.  If it hadn’t been for them, he would have been late.

            When David got home from school that afternoon I had a glass of milk and some fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies ready for him.  “I talked to your mama and dad today about how Elizabeth has been keeping us up at night.  I have an idea.  How would you feel about coming home with me for a few days?”

            “Today?”  A big grin spread over his face, but as soon as it appeared, it disappeared.  “But, Grandma, I have one more day of school before Christmas break.  Tomorrow’s the party.  I don’t want to miss it.”  He looked torn between his school party and a good night’s sleep.

            “Yes, I know; Mama said you were excited about it.  How about we put cotton in our ears tonight so maybe we can get some sleep and then I pick you up after school tomorrow and we just take off?”

            “Yeah,” he said with a grin.  Then his smile drooped, “But will I be home for Christmas?”

            “I’ll be happy to bring you back home on Christmas Eve.  How’s that?  And maybe I’ll stay a couple days and see if Santa can find me here.”

            He jumped up and gave me a hug, wiping his milk mustache on my cheek.  “That’d be awesome, Grandma.  I’ll go pack.”  And he raced down the hall and into his room.

            Sara came into the kitchen, smiling, and sat down.  “I guess your plan was a hit, Gail.”

            “Are you sure you don’t mind me taking David to Kingman for a few days?”

            She reached across the table and patted my hand.  “Not at all.  You’ve got the laundry caught up, made wonderful chicken soup, and filled the freezer with casseroles.  A few days without an energetic nine-year-old around will let me catch up on my sleep without feeling guilty.  And I have to get ready for Santa to arrive.  I still have a few things to wrap.”

            I got up and grabbed a handful of cookies to share with Sara.  “If you point me in the right direction, I’ll finish your wrapping.”

            “Not necessary,” she mumbled around a mouthful of cookie.  “And anyway, it’s your present I still need to wrap.”

            “I could keep my eyes closed.”

            Sara shook her finger at me.  “I know how curious you are, Gail.  You’re not fooling me into letting you anywhere near those gifts.”  A thin cry started in the other room.  Sara groaned and stood up.  “Coming, your majesty.”

It's supposed to be hot and humid again for the next couple days.  I don't like hot and humid.  And this isn't Florida.
--Barbara