Not Easily Awed

I’m not easily awed…maybe it’s because I’ve been through a great deal in my life.  But whatever the reason, it takes some doing to strike me with awe.  Today was a hot day in Golden.  Even with the fans on, cooling off the patio was not in the cards.  It was early in the evening when I put down my book and wondered what our second year of living in Colorado would be like…would it be as rich and interesting as the first year.  I looked up at the incredibly beautiful blue sky and watched the white clouds, thinking maybe they would re-form themselves into a message for me.

Within minutes, a dark cloud came overhead and then…amazingly enough….rain.  Big liquid dots poured down and continued to pour down, filling the bucket I had quickly placed at the downspout in no time.  I moved the patio furniture so the water wouldn’t hit it full force and stuck my hands and arms out…then my feet and legs.  The average rainfall for this time of year is 9″ and right now, we have recorded a little less than 3″.  So when the rain kept falling and bringing with it cool air, I was thrilled and amazed.

Then, as John and I were sitting on the wicker sofa, he said, “Look, there’s a rainbow.”  Sure enough, there it was…overarching from the sky over the neighbor’s house far into Applewood.  We looked at it awhile and sipped wine and I thought what a wonderful sign it was.  Then we sat down to eat and John said, “I think there’s a double rainbow.”  I think I involuntarily gave a little gasp…there it was, a double rainbow.  We had not seen one since our honeymoon in Wales.  I knew the minute I saw it what it meant.  Yes, the second year in Golden would be just as wonderful and maybe even more blessed than the first.  I’m not easily awed but I was genuinely awe-struck…and grateful.

Kitchen Progress

Scott, the wonderful son-in-law, came over last night and helped install the microwave in the New Pearson Kitchen.  We couldn’t have done it without him…we know because we tried.  He and John worked for about 45 minutes to get everything done…and done beautifully.  And then we fed him.

This morning, John was obviously feeling some pressure about the renovation and he said, “Can we skip the Farmer’s Market?”  “Sure, ” I replied, “we already have.”  He headed off to the daily obligatory trip to Home Depot.  Of course we can skip a visit to the Farmer’s Market….how could I refuse a request like that?  I so admire the work he does and the dogged determination to the progress of the kitchen that he can keep any schedule he likes.  My morning job is to feed the canine, the feline and the humanoids.  Then I get lunch ready, tea is at 3pm and by 5 o’clock, it’s time for John to take a shower and sit down with a glass of wine.  He is the handyman/hubby who has my constant appreciation and adoration.  There is no event more important than his comfort level.  The kitchen will be beautiful and I will be standing right there next to him, admiring his work and enjoying every aspect of it….and pouring champagne to celebrate!

The Tale of the Flopsy Bunny

Last Tuesday evening, we were sitting on the patio sipping wine and eating NC peanuts when a crown on a lower tooth fell out.  It was 20+ years old (I know this because just after Mother’s Day 1987, my first husband told me he was leaving me in the fall.  In that six month period, I had a complete physical, got my eyes checked and had two teeth crowned).  Anyway, the next morning, I was lucky enough to get in to see the dentist as he had a cancellation.  I took a shower and shampooed my hair.  I heard a thud downstairs so I headed down the steps.  There on the rug sat the cat and not 10 feet away was a little bunny, most likely a baby.  I thought the bunny was dead so I ran out to the shed and got a shovel (flat nose kind, not a spade) and ran back downstairs.

The cute little bunny was not on the rug!  Obviously still in a live state, he had hopped to the corner of the room.  I grabbed an empty plastic wastebasket with the thought of getting him into it so I could dump him somewhere outside before his heart stopped from sheer terror.  The bunny was having none of it and ran around the room, followed closely by the cat who was in a sort of crouch position as she ran, and me with the wastebasket.  After some to-ing and fro-ing, the critter ran into the laundry room and hid behind the washing machine.  I’m not good with wildlife inside the house and by this time, I was frustrated and clammy and needed to get to the dentist.  So I closed the door to the laundry room and left him, made it on time to the dentist and got my crown re-cemented.

After the dental re-joining, John, who had been out, and I pulled into the driveway about the same time.  I told him my tale, he replied, “It’s only a bunny,” and we ventured into the laundry room together.  No bunny.  John searched in the little area under the stairs…nothing.  We figured the cat had gotten to the furry little guy before we could so we said how sad that was and forgot about it.

Thursday morning, I went downstairs and who was sitting on the rug looking at me?  None other than!  I grabbed a wastebasket and a towel (John’s idea) and again the cat and I chased and shooed him and finally got him into the bathroom where I quickly slammed the door, leaving the cat outside and unhappy about it.  I threw the towel over the terrified little animal, scooted him into the wastebasket and ran up the stairs and out the back door where I deposited him in the flower bed.  Obviously a rabbit of high intelligence, he immediate hopped away!  So my tooth is fine, I learned a new way to deal with critters who come into the house by way of The Threat To Wildlife (cat) and the hare lived to tell the story of the Flopsy Bunny.  The end.

Another John Story

Yesterday morning, after breakfast:

“How did you like today’s smoothie?”  No answer.

“How did you like today’s smoothie?”  “What’s that about Ted’s movie?”

“How did you like today’s smoothie?”  “Oh, it was really good.”

Moisture!

It rained yesterday and it’s raining today!  In the year and four days we have lived here, this is the first two-days-in-a-row rain.  The skies are grey and the air is cool….almost like an east coast rain.  We need all the moisture we can get as Colorado is always dry.  The gardens are bound to flourish with all this wet stuff coming down.  We have turned off our automatic sprinklers and I think our neighbors have, too.

John is sanding the walls and the ceiling in the kitchen.  His fine work and attention to every tiny detail make the previous work like it was done by workmen wearing mittens.  The dumpster is scheduled to be picked up today and the cabinets should be delivered.  There is light at the end of the tunnel.  And I think John should spend a week lying in a chaise longe on the patio when it’s all said and done.  We’ve already decided that next summer we will go camping, go biking, hike another 14-er…..just do all the things we put on hold while the kitchen is underway.  With the rain falling, it’s a good day to work inside.

Which Road?

What is in the DNA of humans that makes us choose one way of being in the world over another?  Some folks seek out a way of life that has sharp angles and edges while others go through life like a canoe on a placid lake.  My friend Arline says that her younger son always chooses the rocky road….and if he finds himself on a smooth road, he throws rocks in front of himself.  It’s true, isn’t it?  Some of us love drama and in a karmic way, we seem to choose emotional tightropes and all that it includes, tears, threats, slamming doors- even accidents.  Others of us seek out quiet days; laughter over a newspaper cartoon, gentle exercise and centered breathing, watching the seasons change.  Is it the angst of youth followed by the mellowing of middle age?  Is there some previous-life force that drives us to drill abrasively into life for the early decades….and then savor it in mid-life, letting the good, quiet times wash over us and letting the peace engulf us?  I wish I knew….if I did, I’d pass this Secret of Life on to Arline’s son….and others I know.

Summer Driving

Ah, how I love driving along, all alone, in the summer heat.  I pop the sunroof, roll the windows half way down (all the way down would be ‘at the beach’) and turn the rock ‘n roll up really loud…..”got my sunglasses on.”  It’s free-floating (not free fallin’) and the road stretches out ahead.  There’s a contented easy smile on my face…..I guess I just “like the way it fits me, every time it hits me.”

I learned to drive on my dad’s 1949 Plymouth, a stick shift with the shift mounted on the steering column.  I loved bouncing along in that car…no radio of course.  And I loved breezing down I26 near Columbia SC in my brand new 1967 Ford Mustang.  It had bucket seats and a great radio.  I didn’t use the air conditioning much, preferring to have the windows down.  I can remember zooming along at the fastest speed I’ve ever accomplished, before or since (or sense). 

I realize that driving along in a Subaru station wagon lacks the same panache as the Mustang…but still it provides me with the same wonderful feeling of freedom and floating……”every time it hits me.”