My tired body is strewn across a comfy chair, left leg draped over its soft arm. I’m dragging last night’s sleeplessness in heavy lidded half-mast eye slits, while I languish in my sore throat’s swollen scratchiness and feel sorry for myself for missing a festive friend weekend.
Suddenly, streaming sunbeams from high windows wash my bare legs with warmth and light as our sweet cat purrs nearby.
With a newly buoyed happy heart, my solitary weekend of recuperation and rest ensues.
The way the morning sun comes over the house
Illuminating, actually floodlighting, the tallest lean tree
Guarding the edge of the yard tucked close to the fence
The growing glow marks the morning’s progress
I’m not sure how to capture the spectacular slash of light
Brilliant heat cutting a diagonal across the solid trunk
Late spring mornings I watch this light show play out
The captivating spotlight shifts and dazzles
Lighting up branch after green leaf branch
A focused deliberate crawl of yellow light
Stooping lower, passing across rough bark
Nature’s clock, finally touching grass
Here’s a tip: Trying a new salmon recipe when you know you might have to stop for work in the middle of the prep isn’t the best idea. I’m mostly glad my sisters weren’t here because they’re not fans of raging infernos. Not that I am. Somehow, in retrospect, the olive oil based rub seems like overkill on the already oily fish. My normal Sunday night procedure “put the fish on the grill and prep the rest of the meal” was interrupted by good news about work (YAY!). 10 minutes later the work was finished. It was just a short distraction. And the grill was engulfed in flames. Completely. The temperature gauge on the grill cover was at the max. I don’t know what the number was. Hot. Really, really hot. I sort of calmly reached into the grill cabinet and turned off the gas valve. The flames continued to leap. I called into the house for help. A fire extinguisher. Moral support. Why not pull the black lumps of what had been 2 salmon filets and were now fireballs off the grill? OK…I can do that. The fire’s fuel sources were being eliminated one by one. There were still shooting flames. Like an ocean oil slick the drip pan continued to burn. The fire still raged. Until it died. Finally. Thankfully. I’m grateful to Mr. Weber for making a grill that didn’t explode or set the deck on fire. The avocado salsa was pretty good without any salmon to put under it, by the way.
I have to write a poem so I can’t come to bed yet
But I thought I’d get in and cuddle for a bit
That should surely inspire you she says
Possibly is my instant deadpan reply
Spontaneous laughter spills from us
That may be your best poem ever
We’ll see how inspired I am
More laughter then silence
And silent cuddling
And sweet kisses
I basked last night in Kris Jenkins’ victorious triumphant pose, arms held high.
A split second after the miraculous winning shot swished through the hoop.
The ball left his hands with .4 seconds on the clock.
His moment. Glory. Satisfaction. Joy.
Kris Jenkins’ victorious triumphant pose, arms held high, makes my heart happy.
I considered the images of my day, the 24 hours
Kris Jenkins’ magical shot
Kris Jenkin’s victorious triumphant pose, arms held high.
1. Gorgeous sunset slipping behind a valley of purple flowers and ambling horses
2. Golden sunrise glow illuminating puffy clouds streaking clear morning sky
3. Annie the basset hound bounding joyfully shaking long floor sweeping ears
4. Sprouting tiny green leaf buds surrounding miniature berry clusters
5. Massage table draped for me with orange oil aromatherapy in the head cradle
6. Happy 87th Birthday surprise Mom your grandson & youngest great-granddaughter
6. Baby Eloise gleefully calling “snack” for one dried strawberry after another
7. A Pit special cooked medium rare with lettuce, tomato and sweet potato fries
8. My purring Pierre the cat curled on the back of the sofa behind my head