A Weekend's Account

Mornings:



glorious sun with a bitter chill on the air; a golden dawn, bronze light falling through sheer curtains
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persimmons and the "best damn grapefruit you've ever tasted" (as the market vendor told me)
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breakfast out, oatmeal with the works, stroll around the plaza
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pine siskins.  clearing seed fast, sometimes ten to a feeder sock, a whirling, whistling, chattery group of yellow streaked wings and grippy little toes.
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letter writing on graph paper, black ink smeared on a left hand
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Afternoons:

reading her book of poetry (it's so good I could burst with pride)
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plantish retail therapy.  the woman who runs the nursery again commenting on my "massive growing collection" of house plants - "why here you are again!  a new plant every time!"  i refuse to be shamed
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too much tea
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painting, painting, and painting even more.  pushing water, finding deer, daydreaming, mountain hunting, budding twigs, swirling rainbows
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blue apatite genuine paint on a "good" shirt.  blerg
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Evenings:


"back-rub in a cup" - scratch brewed vegan chai
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rasping sound of files on metal and the hot whirl of a polishing wheel.  prehnite, chrysoprase, larimar, color splashed along the bench
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a kitchen well scrubbed down
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scent of roasting squash
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buckwheat heating pillows in bed, new fiction, mint tea, slumbering cats
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my friends,
i hope the weekend was all that you needed with snow flurries on top!