Last night I got several paragraphs down for a new story with hopes of getting back to it soon, maybe today. I had all the laundry done up and house straight enough to suit me. I’d taken an unscheduled trip to the store in the afternoon for a new umbrella after a gust of wind broke our table umbrella and buried me under it. (I had suggested to DH we not use the umbrella in the strong breeze, but what do I know?) While out I picked up chewies for Biscuit, milk and eggs for the week, and returned videos. I woke a little before dawn on this fresh Monday ready to go and do nothing much domestic. I had my story germinating, the new Elizabeth Berg book loaded on my Kindle, and I felt free in the merry month of May!
Biscuit and I brewed tea and headed for the deck. It was a beautiful morning and the new umbrella in a shade of turquoise was a bright sight. I did not push it up though as first thing in the morning I love to feel the sky overhead! It wasn’t long until I caught sight of Miss B shoulder down to the earth. I called; she came; she stunk. I tried wiping her up but it didn’t work, and her nice cloth collar stunk too.
So I moved the car out of the garage. I moved the now empty trash dumpster into the garage. I started water in the garage tub and went to wake up DH. I said HELP and he rousted out a little earlier than usual. I put the collar to soak and we lifted Miss B into the water for a bath which means we all get wet too. So then I had to do dog laundry…towels, my soaking gown and now stinking robe. I tossed in her sleeping rug for good measure. So much for a quiet start to the day.
At midmorning a friend came by for tea. She brought me the most beautiful flowers! She was wearing a shirt of the same color when I answered the door. She was a picture of purple loveliness. We took tea and an Irish Whiskey cake (wow, good stuff) out to the deck. We pulled up under the turquoise ceiling and the rock fountain took us to a mountain stream—for five minutes. Miss B wanted cake. DH decided to start mowers and weed eaters. Did I think Monday was going to be a quiet day, a writing day, a day Madeleine L’Engle would say good for just BEING?
The afternoon turned hot after a sandwich lunch on the deck. We all three were worn down and came in when the sun got high in the sky. A dozen little inside chores took my time. I sat down and did research for a possible fishing trip in June. And now it is time to begin thinking of a supper meal. Salad anyone?
One tiny rejection in a sentence contest and one small placement in a poetry contest was the writing news today. I guess I broke even on the far borders of writing today. Already I feel Tuesday coming on, look again for a gentle dawn, live expectantly for a trip to the mailbox. And as my dear Scarlett always said, “Tomorrow is another day.”