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I didn't find much depth in worship on Sunday: my mind flitted around different projects i could engage in on the deck.
The potted sequoia could use shaping, and i could create an elfin landscape around the trunk, building little platforms of twigs and moss and carving little ladders and i could buy small ceramic animals to populate the tiny fantasy....
The scented geraniums could be trained up more tidily and make a screen between the deck and the stairs, whatsist called, espalier....
(Then my favorite) i should build a ladder or step like shelving to get some more vertical growth area, make the shelves at angles so they drain well, use gutters to catch the water, capture the run off....
The deck is bigger in my memory than it is in person.
No one spoke during worship, and the changeable unsettled weather brought wind, sun and rain during the hour.
We ran errands off and on all afternoon: Christine had bought a printer on Craig's List, we picked up Subway sandwiches and took one to our friend recovering from knee surgery. She needs a walker today, so i went to a closing drugstore to see if one was available (no) then i looked in at a closing Sears store. The closing-the-doors sale at the Sears store is not so good. Seasonal clearance sales there have been much better, and the discounts on hand towels and wash cloths were not enough to keep me from flinching at the price of a washcloth. (Even though i should know that cotton prices are going up.) I headed off to another stocked drugstore for the walker, and then made the weekly grocery run.
I felt strangely dissatisfied and tired, and felt like loosing myself in a book. But no book in the house said, "Read Me!" I ended up taking Neil Gaiman's American Gods to the deck and held it over my eyes as a bird blind, and watched the goldfinches, house finches, chickadees, juncos, and hummingbirds visit the deck. The late afternoon sunlight on the deck was still strong and intense, and as soon as the sun went behind a cloud i was chilled. Earlier in the day we had driven up to the complex to see the sun, out after a sudden shower, heating the pavement and drying up the rain water. The air was cool enough, though, that the evaporation was visible, a thick rising fog off all the dark surfaces.
The potted sequoia could use shaping, and i could create an elfin landscape around the trunk, building little platforms of twigs and moss and carving little ladders and i could buy small ceramic animals to populate the tiny fantasy....
The scented geraniums could be trained up more tidily and make a screen between the deck and the stairs, whatsist called, espalier....
(Then my favorite) i should build a ladder or step like shelving to get some more vertical growth area, make the shelves at angles so they drain well, use gutters to catch the water, capture the run off....
The deck is bigger in my memory than it is in person.
No one spoke during worship, and the changeable unsettled weather brought wind, sun and rain during the hour.
We ran errands off and on all afternoon: Christine had bought a printer on Craig's List, we picked up Subway sandwiches and took one to our friend recovering from knee surgery. She needs a walker today, so i went to a closing drugstore to see if one was available (no) then i looked in at a closing Sears store. The closing-the-doors sale at the Sears store is not so good. Seasonal clearance sales there have been much better, and the discounts on hand towels and wash cloths were not enough to keep me from flinching at the price of a washcloth. (Even though i should know that cotton prices are going up.) I headed off to another stocked drugstore for the walker, and then made the weekly grocery run.
I felt strangely dissatisfied and tired, and felt like loosing myself in a book. But no book in the house said, "Read Me!" I ended up taking Neil Gaiman's American Gods to the deck and held it over my eyes as a bird blind, and watched the goldfinches, house finches, chickadees, juncos, and hummingbirds visit the deck. The late afternoon sunlight on the deck was still strong and intense, and as soon as the sun went behind a cloud i was chilled. Earlier in the day we had driven up to the complex to see the sun, out after a sudden shower, heating the pavement and drying up the rain water. The air was cool enough, though, that the evaporation was visible, a thick rising fog off all the dark surfaces.
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