The Sweet Spot

It’s that time of year.   The nights are cooling down, the sun is setting earlier, everything is either starting back up or ending.  The outside music venues are closing up, and the Halloween costumes are showing up in the thrift stores. The kids have been back at school for almost a month.  The parks are quiet until 2:30 every day. I can throw the ball to my dogs again.

Lots of people do spring cleaning. I do fall cleaning. It’s time to paint the watering cans so they can last through another rainy season. Time to pack up the chair cushions and take down the shade sails. No, I didn’t have that summer party again this year. Maybe next . . . I got the lights hung up over the patio. Will the winter rain storms knock them down?

I can almost see the floor in my sewing room. An hour a day for another week or two should do it. Finish it, donate it, get it out of here. I’ve already made up boxes for six teachers. They found it on Craigslist – box of pioneer clothes for your 3rd/4th grade classroom.

It’s time to write again, besides daily the blog posts. I need to work on my children’s book stories every day after lunch, after visiting my sister, after throwing the ball to the dogs. There’s that dead time from 2:00 to 6:00 where I could really get something done, now that I won’t be running out to hear evening music. I only need to commute north on the parking lot called I- 680 once a week now, just four more sessions for Manners class with Daisy.

The girlfriends will have to have a few meetings at the local watering hole before it gets too cold to sit outside.  We’ve been scattered this summer, with one engaged, one newly broken up, and a few in deepening relationships, the rest of us living our best lives.  Guys come and go; girlfriends are forever.

Then there’s the friend who went to France for six weeks. We need to catch up. It’s hard to find the time with chorus, dog training, sister, and our conflicting views on what music makes for good listening. We will get there one of these days.

There’s an author gig coming up in less than two weeks. I have twenty minutes to fill. It starts at 9:00, but it’s local, the best kind. This one is for adults, so more nerve wracking than for kids.

The rains are coming. We will be relieved after the first storm that will wet down a dry state and keep the wildfires at bay.  Daylight Savings time will end in another six weeks, and then I will have to restructure my day around less time outside.  Burning daylight will take on a whole new meaning when there’s less of it.

Then the holidays.  A planned reunion between my mother and my sister. It’s been almost 17 months since they’ve seen one another.  A bunch of people around the dining room table.   Two young dogs that are too exuberant for the elderly.  Lots of projects to finish up beforehand.

And sort of a date today at the local wine festival. Who has time for that?

Couldda Wouldda Shouldda

I should’ve thought out the date better. He doesn’t love the Beatles or the Beatles cover band. What was I thinking?

 

 

 

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