Fall Classic

I always used to say that the first thing I wanted to do when I retired was take a fall vacation, but with Heidi still working, such a trip was not in the cards this year. Turns out? I didn't have to go anywhere to enjoy the season.

If it rained nearly every day for the first three weeks of my proper retirement, then this October has more than made up for it. There hasn't been a drop of rain and barely a cloud in the sky for 25 days. It's been cool air, blue skies, and leaves slowly changing color, and for the first time in decades, I have been free to enjoy every minute of it. 

It's been fantastic!

Game Time

The neighborhood was bustling in the crisp October sunshine this morning. All sorts of folks were out and about walking their dogs, grabbing some coffee, and shopping the farmers' market. And the roads were busy and stores were doing a brisk business early this afternoon when we ran some errands. But when Lucy and I stepped out later for a walk, the shadows were growing long beneath blue skies, and no one else was around. I glanced at my watch and noted the time; our hometown football team, doing well for the first time in years, was about to kick off.

No Simple Highway

I was thinking of calling my aunt this evening, so I picked up my phone, and the time flashed 6:12. "Okay, okay!" I responded to what seemed like a gentle nudge from spirit. 

My aunt and I had a nice conversation, and when I hung up, a picture of my mom popped up on the memories feature of my phone screen. I tapped it and was treated to a montage of photos of her set to the Grateful Dead song "Ripple." 

I knew why the pictures showed up, but the song? Was entirely random. Five years ago today, I was adding photos to the slide show for my mother's funeral, and there they were again. She was young, she was older, she was laughing with a clown nose on, she was a teenager petting a dog, a grandmother reading to the boys, a traveler sitting in a plaza in Spain. She was dancing with my brother, then bundled up on snowshoes, and then sitting poolside in a bikini at Zaby's Motel. 

And the Grateful Dead sang

If my words did glow with the gold of sunshine
And my tunes were played on the harp unstrung
Would you hear my voice come through the music?
Would you hold it near as it were your own?

Ripple in still water
When there is no pebble tossed
Nor wind to blow

Light Work

I was alone in our community garden today while I cleaned out my raised beds, trimmed the perennials,  harvested the sweet potatoes and the last of the peppers and tomatoes, and stacked the metal cages. And it was just me in the breezy October sunshine as I planted cover crops and spring garlic, shallots, and potatoes and then mulched the beds.

And that was fine.

Claiming Their Territory

Lucy and I were almost back to the car on our National Mall circuit this morning when a screech shattered the clear blue sky. Two hawks swooped over the rotunda dome of the National Gallery, their wings pinned in a dive. Everyone stopped and looked up. "I didn't know an animal could make that noise!" a little boy said to his mom. 

"Keeeyarrr!" one cried again as if to say, "Well, now you do!" and they soared back up toward the golden October sun to catch the autumn breeze.

Like an Old Pair of Slippers

For my debut as a volunteer field trip chaperone, I reported to school by 7:20 and stayed until 3:45. I got a chance to catch up with my friends and former colleagues and see a bunch of 7th and 8th graders I knew, too. Before we boarded the buses, I played a few card games, reminded a teacher to share the groups with her homeroom, and watched part of Ice Age. There might have been a Kahoot, but the kids had been instructed to leave their iPads in their lockers. The weather at Mount Vernon was perfect, and the kids I met were typical sixth graders, funny, silly, impulsive, and smart. I came home tired but energized and sort of happy I didn't have to go back tomorrow.

Trust the Process

 I knew the power washers were out there.

I mean, how could you not? The drone of the compressor, the spray of the water against vinyl siding, the barking of the neighborhood dogs all alerted anyone within earshot of their presence. And I was glad-- glad that they were early, glad I had drawn the curtains so that our pets wouldn't be alarmed, and glad to have a thorough cleaning underway (that I didn't have to do!), and glad I'd be able to move all my stuff back soon.

But when the din subsided and I peaked outside at our dripping but still very grungy deck, I was dismayed. Is that all there is? I wondered, and considered going to find the foreman of the crew and show him the grime in the corners. But the Surely? I moved all my outdoor possessions for more section of my brain prevailed, and I waited.

Right before lunch the racket geared up again, but then I was stuck inside as the front porch was thoroughly scoured. Fortunately that process was short-lived, but before I took Lucy out to enjoy this glorious weather, I inspected all the outdoor spaces and found them less than sparkling. Leaning over the railing and craning my neck down the way, I saw other railings and walls much cleaner that ours. Maybe it's just lunch? I surmised, and out we went.

90 minutes later we returned to a couple of extension ladders leaning against the house, and yellow foul-weather gear clad workers on our decks doing some detail work. By 2:30, they had really moved on. Compressors, ladders, and crews were all assembled at the next building to begin washing, and after my inspection, I had few complaints.