dark, eat, chores, trees

 * I have been sitting in quite dark rooms lately. And quiet ones, also. This began several months ago not to conserve electricity especially but just as a happening one night. I put down a book, switched the light and just sat. My arid eyes accustomed to the dark until I began to distinguish shapes. I have thought that one has finally come home after a new move when the mover-in can walk around in the darkened house with no clothes on and not bump into things like great aunt Harriet's prickly sideboard or, lets say, the sleeping on the floor dog. That night I just sat, enveloped in the gentle hum of the air purifier and, since it was rather late, the quite nice lack of traffic noise. I did not mentally list things to do on the morrow. I did not really think about anything. Have you ever done that? Just sit?

* As the punkins pile up in front of stores I begin to wonder as I masticate (I had to look that one up to make sure I spelled it properly.) "Am I eating the last watermelon for 2020, the last mush melon?"

* Summer chores have melded into autumn chores. I painted 2/3 of the shed yesterday. 'Desert Glow' Lovely to view in the falling snow.

* I was quite embarrassed the other day when my usually excellent sense of direction failed me. Truly, I navigated Paris without a map. Perhaps it was the excitement of having my trees trimmed and the wondering of how in the heck it would be accomplished. Anyway, I went to a door  I thought was that of my across the fence neighbor to get permission for the trimmers to attack their limbs which overhang my trees and (blush) it was the wrong door. I nervously bounced through my litany of why it is a good idea to trim, the man signed and I tottled on home, pleased with myself. Fifteen minutes later he appeared at my door saying that really was not his tree but belonged to someone further west. A few days later the blush went away and I was ready to sally forth to find the correct door. I was saved from expedition when I heard the sound of my across the fence neighbor dishes clanking through her open kitchen window. Yooohoos. Introductions. Signing. Completion. I was speechless from admiring her dangly earrings and wondering how she puts on her face mask. Trimmers will come in a month.