Dawdling

Two weeks later, and again I didnʼt have a post ready for the early morning Iowa time. No apologies today, although I probably could have composed something yesterday. I chose not to. The Lovely One and I were having too excellent a day to interrupt it (as I did Saturday evening to dictate/type/revise and post the addition to “Mistakes by Moonlight”). Then I intended to get something written (perhaps starting a bit or a lot like this) immediately after Janetʼs departure for work, but The Time Travelerʼs Wife was on the movie channels (HBO maybe), and I couldnʼt resist it. Wisely, on my part.

And that opening gives me several topics I could discuss.

First, Sunday. We awoke in pretty good time. For us. Not long after 8:00. Shower and coffee and talking in the living room. Then determination and dedication to duty sent us out the doors to perform our third major raking of the season. The front yard wasnʼt too bad, as both ashes had pretty well disposed of their loads of leaves already, and I had raked that up on Tuesday. But in the rear, the poplar had emptied its branches, along with some from the linden, and those ashes are so tall that the leaves drift right over the house into the back yard. So we raked and raked to get them all to the front, including some blowing from the western neighborsʼ yard. Then, as she tackled the front, I took the leaf blower to our eastern side and those neighborsʼ yard, until we got a pretty big pile in front, along the curb in the street.

These leaves must leave… (shot through the front window, thus the ghostly reflection visible**)

And then, rather than keep working (it was somewhat after twelve by then), we chose to clean up (again) and hop in the truck for a scenic backroads drive to Dubuque — up to Andrew, over to Springbrook, up to Bellevue and then on up via St. Donatus to Dubuque. Pretty, but the trees roundabout our area just arenʼt lush with color again this year — lots of slatey browns, muted yellow, ochres and greys. In towns you get the prettier colors of maples and other eastern trees. (I guess we need to work out an October vacation to New England, if we want that rural color…)

To give our jaunt a purpose, Janet went to the Hallmark store to stock up on birthday cards (nearly forty dollars worth), and we visited Samʼs for some necessaries and other things. (And, with The Lovely Oneʼs permission, I put my money where my mouth has been and avoided purchasing the Quilted Northern that we usually use at the toilet. Take that Koch Brothers!) With some wine, Fat Tire and the Sam Adams Winter Mix case, I enriched the Wal-Mart company noticeably. At least via credit card. And I have some interesting new brews to try.

Then, because we put the heavy boxes into the open bed of the truck, we went straight home (instead of perhaps shopping elsewhere or eating out late afternoon — couldnʼt have those paranoiacally real, imaginary thieves snatching our stuff from the truck). The drive down 61 was nearly as lovely as the two-lanes had been going north. More time together in the kitchen next, cutting cantaloupe for breakfast this week, making her lunch for today and working up a dish for dinner last night.

Supper was a quiche with lots of leftover veggies — excess sweet red pepper I had chopped for pasta last week and not used, and fresh mushrooms that also hadnʼt made the cut for the Italian sauce, although I will be adding what was too much for the quiche to a revisit on the rigatoni, probably tomorrow evening. With NBC wasting our lives with Sunday Night Football, we watched the second of three movies weʼd rented on Saturday, State of Play, a really good political/journalism suspense flick with Russell Crowe and Rachel McAdams (her almost ironically, considering my morning movie today*). Now we still have Proof for some day later this week.

All in all, a genuinely wonderful, domestic day.

Now, with thoughts of writing about Audrey Niffeneggerʼs book (and the movie, too) in mind, I know I have to also work today. That pile of leaves we left in the street must make the trip(s) to the waste disposal site, and I have other obligations on other days this week — reminding me that I need also to run my Picasso lines repeatedly today (my intention to work on them with Janet not having come to as full fruition as I had once intended). And of course I would like to write a post to appear at my preferred proper time tomorrow morning.

I wonder what Iʼll come up with… later.

* Sheʼs the female star of The Time Travelerʼs Wife, although I had not remembered until the credits rolled this morning.

** As you can see, I fixed our broken camera (yesterday morning, using a tiny screwdriver to pry the lens to actually fully open. Victory!)

©2010 John Randolph Burrow, Magickal Monkey Enterprises, Ltd, S.A.

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