Monday, June 08, 2009

An ordinary Day

This morning I woke early, slipped out of bed quietly, put the coffee on and enjoyed a solitary cup whilst thinking how comfortable it was to have cooler weather.

In a short while Caspar woke, and so we quickly got the leash and went out on the morning business run, - a little old dog can't wait too long in the morning for this necessity.

What a pleasure to smell the freshly cleaned air after an early morning rain, and to hear the resident meadow lark singing a morning paean.

We sniffed the damp air and strolled right to the bottom of the lane, waking up the little pigs at the turn in the road, - they were rampaging ruffians from the first good morning! Of course you know that they are the ultimate machine for getting rid of coutch grass. It strikes terror to my heart though to even contemplate them loose in the garden.....

When we returned to the house the Master still slept, and Caspar decided on an extension to his morning sleep while I amused myself on the piano, looking for appropriate pieces to play when we visit the Care Centre on Wednesday.

Eventually we all had breakfast and enjoyed our daily visit with our daughter, who stops in for coffee after early morning work.

This was the day we were to pick up the Earth Machines (2) whose use the Village is encouraging in the name of green environment. Off to town to do a few errands and load these shiny black containers into the truck - in parts. A piece of cake to assemble, the instruction book tells us.

We come home to a welcome shower, and it is easy to convince Charles that a cup of coffee and a short break would not offend the rules of productivity, considering the rain.

I cook him a hot dog with mounds of onions for lunch, and then settle down in the big chair with The Shoebox Bible.

I finish it, but with a number of short pauses for contemplation and to wipe away the tears. Will the book affect everyone in this way?

I found it to be a very touching tribute to a brave but wounded mother, and to a loving relationship. Having had a mother myself who faced a life of physical pain and adversity with sweetness and great courage I was very vulnerable to nostalgia...

Tea-time, and then, so the day would not be totally without merit in the world of accomplishment, we went out and put the Earth Machines together, and they sit in the back yard, awaiting our first offerings of garden debris and kitchen scraps (that we are assured they will quickly turn into fine, rich loam).

Now it is dusk, - the clouds have gathered overhead and it is quite possible we may not see the glorious moon tonight, but here is last night's inadequate effort at capturing the splendour of the golden orb.



And the night before an errant cloud passing in front of the moon cast a Halloween mask on the man in the moon.



How grateful I am for Ordinary Days!

2 comments:

The Weaver of Grass said...

I couldn't agree more Hildred - give me ordinary days antime!

The Weaver of Grass said...
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