In the Slow Lane

I had the day off on Monday, which was nice because it gave me the rare chance to look around and appreciate. I could go slow. I didn’t have to rush. Rushing ruins everything.

I had time to sit in the dry brown grass and eat satsumas off our tree. I sat there like a lizard, soaking up the sun, and my thoughts were very simple. I was thinking about satsumas–how pretty they are and how good they taste.

I played with the cats and spoiled them terribly. I let June sit in the laundry basket, for example, for about an hour, on top of the clean laundry. She was quite pleased. She looked very proud, so I guess in cat culture relaxing in a laundry basket is considered cool and not absurd.

June in the laundry basket

Carl dozing nearby. He tried to take a turn in the laundry basket, but June wasn’t sharing.

I weeded around the front steps in a careful, unhurried way, coming across a cocoon and a sleepy little snake. There were lots of earthworms where I was working, and the whole bed smelled like Christmastime because it was covered in a layer of spruce-pine needles.

Snapdragons

My supper wasn’t exactly fancy. It was cranberry sauce, my favorite dish to make. The recipe’s so easy, and it’s fun when the water boils and the berries start popping. I like to eat my sauce piping hot, which most people think is weird, but it sure made for a cozy meal. I ate in the kitchen by candlelight (orange Halloween tealights) as a cold front moved in. The screen door kept banging in the wild, dark wind.