mamculuna: (Default)
( Aug. 22nd, 2004 11:40 am)
Well, I'm back in SC* with my good connection** and hoping to be part of LJ again. I've missed you all! I'm not going to try to go back and catch up--just starting in with today for both reading and writing.

It's daunting. The housesitter left the house clean, more or less, and the front yard mowed, and most plants still alive--but the back yard is a true jungle--three months of rain and sun do wonders for weeds. It may be beyond me--possibly I'll just weed out the flower beds and wait until fall kills the rest of the mess and start over. I have to find a better solution--like not going away for three months at a stretch, for starters.

One of the outside semi-stray cats is here, fine and healthy. Haven't seen the other yet--hope she's ok.

And then my car has an indicator light flashing. So I won't be able to get down to the beach to see if we need new roof shingles until next week. Oh, well, plenty to do here.

Other than all that, welcome home, Mamcu! At least the AC was working***!

*After trying to leave Chicago from the wrong airport--since when does the second part of a round trip leave from another airport?

**After a long session restoring my cable connection that the housesitter messed up

*** So far, anyway
It turns out that Sarah Lee Guthrie, daughter of Arlo and granddaughter of Woody, lives in my town. We went to hear her sing tonight at a little cafe. Nothing spectacular--I wasn't ever sure even Arlo made it on his own talent and not his father's name, and this maybe even be more so. But she's a dear, pretty girl, and her husband, a local guy, isn't bad on the guitar.

The thing about it was the night. A warm summer night, even though it's April, sitting outside. The cafe's in an old mill village house, with a small patio. A litte crowd of people who know each other, the street lights shining through the leaves and the warm wind occasionally brushing our hair. A little beer, some hugs and laughter, the guitar and the sweet young voices. Not far away the river tumbles over the rocks, and we can smell the fresh honeysuckle. It seems like the best parts of my life have been nights like this.
mamculuna: (Default)
( Apr. 10th, 2004 10:04 pm)
A morning Yoga class that focused on hip openers, which I can do! I know I need the ones I can't do more, but it's fun to succeed for a change.

My son calls and we have a great long chat about work, movies, houses, and traveling. He's grown to be such a great friend, and it's so nice sitting and talking while I nibble on the toast left from lunch.

A ride in the country, because I can't walk a lot right now, having some kind of foot/ankle tendonitis and want it to heal before I go to Italy for two weeks in June. I had this before when I used to run, years ago, and dropped back to walking. Ugh. But the ride was lovely. Just a few miles north and the wisteria is still fresh and purple, the dogwood and azaleas just opening. We start to visit one of Bill's friends and the new house is so ostentatious and hideous we turn back. Along the road are gentle cottages I'd love to live in, on the lake. At the filling station I see a former student, such a warm, happy person.

Home to a lovely evening. 85 degrees and cooling--my kind of weather. We grill on the deck and sit late into twilight, watching the candles burn down. The trees are full of leaves, the light is late. This is my time, my weather. The candlelight spills throught the spaces in the table, making diamond shapes on our legs and the floor. We talk about the Triplets of Belleville (we loved it), why Bill's friends went for glamor wives and he for me, what we'll do this summer in Chicago, what's wrong with Condoleeza Rice. The bats go in and the stars come out, and still it's warm.


mamculuna: (Default)


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