Hush
It's been one of those days, like right after someone puts their finger to their lips and goes, "Hush," because a surprise is right around the corner.
I worked ridiculous hours like a slave on the press the past few days. It was imperative I finished AJ's chap with the extras surmounting many technical problems, And then there was Connie's chap and link to coincide with her interview with Clockwise Cat and her being named poet of the month at Outsider Writers Guild.
So first I ran away last night with Fissure friends and company to John Jeter booksigning for his book, "The Plunder Room" at the Handlebar. He's part owner of the Handlebar so the place was packed, free buffet, free Yingling. I ran into some old Howling folks and other Fissure folks which was cool.
But today after 6 hours of press work by 1 PM, I ran away into the garden. The temps were soothing, in the 60's and the wisteria was cracking like bones beneath my hands so I cleaned out even more scrub to make way for azaelas and other plants. Way back, against the rusted fence, I found a huge stash of awesome moss-covered rocks and very old handmade bricks so now I have a border for my orobouros bed! And then the sky became many shades of gray and there was a hush, even the crows and hawk and squirrels shushed. The daffodils are peeking out and have half-formed buds. The camellias are blooming profusely, still, even in this year of drought. It's a tease of a respite form winter, but it's enough. Sometimes wonderful things should come in very small doses...
So in I came to very sharp cheese and home mnade Sangria made with cherries, pomegranate jouice, and the clementines, nectarines anad oranges, Kendall and I squeezed. We cooked New York Strips on the grill with red potatoes in olive oil and spices, along with grilled squash, tomatoes, grapes and onions. And against the very dark glwoering sky on one side, out came the sun on the other as we cooked. It was eerie, a scene, that if ever painted, no one would believe.
A lovely day! And it still isn't over. I'm still to finish my poem "Absinthe Roundtable."
An astounding day!
I worked ridiculous hours like a slave on the press the past few days. It was imperative I finished AJ's chap with the extras surmounting many technical problems, And then there was Connie's chap and link to coincide with her interview with Clockwise Cat and her being named poet of the month at Outsider Writers Guild.
So first I ran away last night with Fissure friends and company to John Jeter booksigning for his book, "The Plunder Room" at the Handlebar. He's part owner of the Handlebar so the place was packed, free buffet, free Yingling. I ran into some old Howling folks and other Fissure folks which was cool.
But today after 6 hours of press work by 1 PM, I ran away into the garden. The temps were soothing, in the 60's and the wisteria was cracking like bones beneath my hands so I cleaned out even more scrub to make way for azaelas and other plants. Way back, against the rusted fence, I found a huge stash of awesome moss-covered rocks and very old handmade bricks so now I have a border for my orobouros bed! And then the sky became many shades of gray and there was a hush, even the crows and hawk and squirrels shushed. The daffodils are peeking out and have half-formed buds. The camellias are blooming profusely, still, even in this year of drought. It's a tease of a respite form winter, but it's enough. Sometimes wonderful things should come in very small doses...
So in I came to very sharp cheese and home mnade Sangria made with cherries, pomegranate jouice, and the clementines, nectarines anad oranges, Kendall and I squeezed. We cooked New York Strips on the grill with red potatoes in olive oil and spices, along with grilled squash, tomatoes, grapes and onions. And against the very dark glwoering sky on one side, out came the sun on the other as we cooked. It was eerie, a scene, that if ever painted, no one would believe.
A lovely day! And it still isn't over. I'm still to finish my poem "Absinthe Roundtable."
An astounding day!