ACCURATE SILENCE?

It has been a quiet couple of days. The story does not differ from the usual: not sleeping well, groggy during the day, restless during the night. 

M and J left on Friday for upstate where A graduated from college! I staid behind to mind the pets and keep the home fires, such as they are, burning. There was a Cornell Extension Plant Sale not too far away and as M was out of town, I volunteered to get some tomato plants and some basil. It was kind of a madhouse, even at 8:30 when the sale was set to open. 

As M has another daughter to move home from college on Tuesday and work work worky in between, I planted the tomatoes in their containers on the deck as well. That led to more gardening, even though it was drizzly all day. At least that keeps it from being too hot. I dug a new area for an expanded bed and transplanted some of the seedlings.

The next morning.

May my silences become more accurate.
Theodore Roethke, poet (1908-1963)

Now that's an interesting? beautiful? thought. Or maybe I was in that pleasantly sleepy-waking-up phase before reality crept into my ribcage and reminded me I was lagging behind the anxiety train.

I painted the fingernails on one hand the other night. I am notoriously bad at many of the female enhancement arts and, as I was sitting around gorging on Orphan Black and The Hour, I thought I would practice for fun. My fingernails are quite brittle in general and I have a difficult time keeping any nails at all; they snag, I tear them. At least I have grown out of actually chewing on them. But gardening does my hands no favors. 

All of this to say that it is interesting to notice my fingers as I type and do other things. That unusual splash of color makes me pay a different kind of attention, say, some as opposed to none. 

Quel jour! Much later.

Now Cooder is sleeping comfortably next to me on the couch. It is a beautiful and balmy evening with the slightest hint of precipitation. The lilacs are almost over and the flowers are falling from the dogwood tree in the front yard. There is only a faint scent of lilacs now. Spring is over so quickly!

Not sure where the day went, which is not to say that things were not accomplished, just not as many as I had planned. I wasn't feeling all that well and had to take an emergency nap or two. I wasn't making good decisions about what to eat (Gummy Lifesavers?) and was lightheaded. Could it have been a reaction to the tick I took off of me? Or the prophylactic antibiotics that M and J so thoughtfully supplied? I don't know. I just hope tomorrow is better.

I did get more gardening done. I guess a gardener's work is never done! I have so many morning glories! Not sure where they are all going to go. I put some on the edge of the woods. It will be interesting to see if they thrive. 

And it seems my dear friend JV is going to travel up to Schroon Lake with me this coming weekend which will make for no end of fun! I haven't seen Liz and Larry and dog Jane Anne in over a year! Of course, I am always anxious about leaving the kittens, particularly since Emmylou likes to hover near the front door, but they should be fine. Next time I go away for a few days, I will likely go to Rhinebeck and can take them with me.

Also, had a nice chat with me Mam who has had more than her share of vexations recently. I have been trying to get her to come here for visit, but she told me today that she needs to get her degenerated hip looked at before she does any traveling. If she gets a hip recplacement, maybe she will be able to do sun salutations again (at age 86).

I should take some sleeping aids as I don't think Morpheus will descend easily tonight.

By the way, I don't know where Joni Mitchell got the idea that summer lawns hiss. Around here, there are motors, lawnmovers, leaf-blowers going all the time in the afternoon. Not quite as pleasant as snaking garden hoses.