Monday, July 22, 2019

Monday, July 22nd, 2019

A Recharge Day

Well, that's how I like to think of it, anyway.

It gives the day some meaning

instead of it being a day during which I did

almost nothing!!!

I can remember those days

(very infrequent)

many years ago

when the children would be off to school

and Charles off about his own business

and I would do JUST NOTHING

except dream, and make plans, 

and look at recipes and home decor ideas.

And that's about how it was today!!

I made sure the birds were fed

and the plants watered,

and I did scrub up the fountain lady

who is inclined to get a slimey goo on her

from the water that flows from the flower at her shoulder.

Pristine when she first came to grace our garden

(a gift from our third son and his wife)

but not so much now, and I am looking for ways

to restore her back to her original pure condition.

Well, these lackadaisical days are not a total loss -

they are often an inspiration and a wonderful spirit charger!!!

I rearranged all my cotton, and lined up some beautiful blues

for a new warp to dress the newly naked loom

from which I took this puckered scarf.

And I laid out some knitting instructions

for children's mitten and toques

which I thought would make nice Christmas gifts.

The do-nothing mode has followed me into the evening

but I must go out, after a hot, hot afternoon

and check that everything will get through the night 

without getting thirsty.

Here is Callie, the Cat,

come to keep me company as she usually

does in the evening

when I am at the computer.

A welcome guest except when she

lays a paw on the keyboard

and the screen is full of


or  ssssssssssssssssssssss

So will she come out with me into the cool

of the evening garden?

If so, she will probably find a leafy spot

to lie in and won't come back

until it's treat time and we all get

ready for bed!

Tomorrow I am going to the library

to take back a DVD

"Bird Song".

(a sweet love story)

I need no books, having found in my mail box

a  wonderful shipment from the Thrift Store ----

Two  Loren Eiseley books

"The Star Thrower"  and "The Unexpected Universe"

and Nevil Shute's "A Town Called Alice"

All of them re-reads from the past

but books that meant so much to me in those

early years when the children were small

and I snatched time to read from those wonderful busy days!

on another note.......

Here is the Rose of Sharon

the star of the garden right now....


Hill Top Post said...

"Nothing," you say? Wow, wish I could write an essay such as yours about "nothing." The puckered scarf is gorgeous. I am so glad you introduced me to Loren Eiseley. Both these titles make me want to read another.

John "By Stargoose And Hanglands" said...

When it's hot outside it's probably best not to over-exert oneself. Cats, I always think, have made a serious study of the art and benefits of doing the absolute minimum.

Ruth said...

Rose of Sharon! The hummingbirds love ours, as do bees and birds. Thirty-some years ago, my mother gave me some starts from hers which we planted around our acre soon after we moved here. All but one of them are shades of pink/lavender. Only one is white and it's at the edge of the woods, unseen by anyone but my husband and me. It's magnificent standing there as a white beacon with all the green foliage behind it. Only once did I ever pull up one of its "babies" and plant it where it could get a good start, hoping to get another white one growing. It was right where my husband pulled it out when weeding. But then I began to notice that you can't really choose a color - they'll turn out whatever the Lord intended them to be. The huge pinkish one below my back window, planted beside a clothesline pole, after all these years has a white one growing up beneath it! I've never bothered to read up on them, they just amaze me at their unique way of propagating their colors in their own way.

This is another one of your beautiful poetic posts, Hildred - thank you for being uniquely you!!! You are truly an inspiration to others, God bless you always.