Saturday (ramble)

i love mild overcast fall days.  the occasional sprinkle.  just warm enough to wear a t-shirt, but just cool enough where i can rock the knee socks.  i woke up late and missed the orchard trip.  so i zipped off in a shiny blue insight and raced around the city.  i’m not a glamorous girl.  my first order of business?  transfer station (purrrrrrr) – oh yeah baby, i was, mmm ahhh, dropping off hazardous chemicals for recycling – i.e. old paint, pesticides, cleaners that had sat in the back of my garage for years.  then deliciously normal things like servings of mulch to surround my new white currant bushes i’ve planted, filling up a pitcher of organic extra virgin olive oil and glass jars of brown sugar and tamari almonds and spinach pasta, taking donations of clothes to goodwill, and chatting up the home improvement store to get the right parts to build my cold frames from my old wooden windows.  slipping in for the first time in a year to a cheapo shop to slip out with a pair of faded grey ass kicking leather boots that just ooh ahh make me feel like me.  coming home to a breeze in the air and a garden impatiently stamping it’s foot for my attention.  more pear tomatoes picked, a few more sweet peppers starting to turn from green to red and therefore earn a spot along the windowsill.  weeds turning into dandelions turning into puffballs waiting to disperse into the air.  handfuls of old zucchini leaves and stalks of leaning sunflowers like kindling.  carefully beheading the largest sunflower and bringing it to the chickens next door where they could dine voraciously on the multitude of seeds.  slipping down the street and around the corner for an iced mocha made from stumptown’s finest, and a chat with my friend at the nursery about the evils of the tree of heaven and the beauty of laurels and currants.  walking home in a mellow way with a slice of ham & cheese brioche from the bakery and sending a snapshot of the goods to a friend.  taking my hori hori knife to the weeds in my front yard that don’t come out with a simple tug of the hand.  chatting with my new tenant and laughing out loud at how much i seem to unintentionally learn about people so quickly.  he is leaving his wife, or thinking about it, and he is seeing a younger woman at the same time he is going into counseling with her. he has never been alone. i’ve always been intrigued by the serial relationship set.  it’s not something i’ve been – i don’t step into love lightly, and would rather be alone than with someone just to not be.  he’s like all of us though, i suppose – just trying to find his way, sometimes letting his ego get the best of him, sometimes confused, doing the best they know how to do with what they’ve got.  anyhow, then i am back, solo for tonight, and feel the day coming to an end.  the rain is getting steady, and so i walk down the street to get a dvd, thinking about not much at all.  the night is slow, the night is mine.  in the morning i’ll be up early on a bus to the west side for coffee and conversation…fall is here.  i’m still here.  still rambling.

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