Saturday, September 28
Wednesday, September 25
I hear nothing, so I get up from my chair. Cedar has opened the gate and gone down the front steps to follow the cat, organizing four garden gourds on his way. I bring him back inside and notice I need to sweep the walk. Scrambled eggs with spinach and cheese are lunch, with chopped prunes and lemon poppyseed biscotti (counter grazing). He still has not napped. I put the dogs out and they reappear having come right back in the porch door. Cedar feeds his scrambled eggs to Indigo over the kitchen gate, one for him, one for the dog. I soak his wool onsie in Eucalan. The mangoes were a bust. I dug out three forsythia by the roots this morning while Cedar played around me and collected chestnuts. He's been battling a cold and the combination of sunshine, dirt, worm-spotting, nut-throwing and exploring in his orbit around me has perked him up. His water cup holds chamomile tea. He goes into the cupboard and gets out the breast pump, throwing the parts over the gate to the dog. I retrieve them. I take out the recycles, notice the broken glass pane I need to clean up. The cat wants to be fed. I haven't eaten my lunch yet. The dryer dings; time to push the laundry along. I don't. Instead, I plug the computer cord in, watch Cedar sharing bits of prune with Indi, see the burning bush turning red outside the window, take down the tool basket to sort those which go out to the garage, and hear Cedar go out the front door again, this time to pull up the black-eyed susan and tease the cat.
It's like a waltz.
Monday, September 23
When I drive I scan the leaves on the road because sometimes they are turtles.
The other week in the early hours I heard a thump on the porch and figured it was a branch falling. I went back to sleep. Later, Tim discovered the bathroom screen was out and it was Lola who had fallen, jumping up onto the sill and continuing on out! She was unhurt from her second-story fall and I couldn't help laughing because she is just like a monkey, grabbing and climbing onto things with her paws and that morning she got a short flight for her enthusiastic efforts.
Every day I have to get out into the yard and weed or trim saplings back or clear brush. I keep thinking of a study I read recently that said the microbes in dirt cause seratonin to release in the brain, thus making us happier. Cedar is usually by my side and I usually work past when I should stop to get him ready for bed.
There was a caterpillar in the garden today with a bright green saddle. I just looked this guy up ~ he is called, what else, a saddleback caterpillar.
I finally realized that this was my first real summer in this house. Last year I was tucked into myself with Cedar by my side. Now I'm sorting and organizing and figuring out where everything goes and letting a lot of stuff go. I love putting stuff out at the end of the drive and then seeing who stops to pick it up. I've also been inspired by the little Waldorf class Cedar goes to with me on Mondays; the simplicity and authenticity are cleansing.
I needed a dresser for my studio to store flat work and found one from a guy down the street who was moving to Boulder. The U-Haul was packed and in his drive when I stopped to trashpick his telescope (which works) and the dresser was the only thing left in the house besides his dog.
I've been carrying a basket of sewing around with me in the car and have begun to sew on many of the cloth baby books by hand. It is very satisfying. They're coming right along; the learning curve has been great and things are happening more quickly now. Sitting in the front seat of the car by the lake while Cedar naps, listening to an audiobook (Peter Mayle's most recent) and making tiny quick stitches in cottons and linens...I couldn't ask for more. I have minor epiphanies while the creative juices are flowing and these revelations are like fireworks in my soul.
Tuesday, September 17
Saturday, September 14
ricoh camera, 400 35mm film
For the first time ever, Cedar took off and mingled on his own at a big gathering. This was an celebratory grand opening for Tim's brother's Smokin' Tacos truck and the cul-de-sac was filled with family and friends, and friends of family and friends of friends. Cedar and his cousins just hung out together. I kept within eyesight to make sure I caught his occasional checking-in glances. He had a blast, we all ate amazing tacos and he slept the entire ride home.
Thursday, September 12
Ricoh camera, 35mm 400 film
I've been snapping shots mainly with my film camera lately. Today I built a sandbox for Cedar and half filled it with sand before the thunder and lightning pushed me inside. While I was digging sod, he was playing meditatively in the sand, working his fingers through it just like he worked them through a big bowl of loose buttons at my sister's. I caught up this week on the writing of two very long overdue letters. We've been eating a lot of meatballs. I've been sewing on the cloth baby books, finishing them up with hand-stitching and carrying around a basket of handwork with me wherever I have to be. Our striped tomatoes are finally ripening; the vines are loaded with heavy green tomatoes just waiting for sunny days. The kitchen counters are like tidepools, constantly filling and emptying with a few spots that always stay cluttered.