It is in his pleasure that a man really lives; it is from his leisure that he constructs the true fabric of self.
Agnes Repplie
For the past week, I've been in hibernation at the cabin. Lying dormant, holed up, withdrawn, retreating. Cocooning in my hammock.
School's out. No teaching to be had. A brief respite before the last two giant activities of the spring - freshman disorientation at my
youngest's university and an Eagle Scout Court of Honor. I'm living the life of a vacationer with a few
putterings along the way. Hiding in my hammock with five library books and a beer.
Occasionally rising to put in another load of laundry or wash up dishes. Sweep the floor. Water a plant. Grab another drink or a handful of strawberries before retreating back to my cloistered abode.
How lucky I feel. But the week hasn't passed without excitement. Our
Internet has been sporadic at best, so much easier to read without the distraction of the computer. I had thought it might be a week to catch up with everyone, but, alas, my emails either take forever to send or don't go at all. Library books prevailed.
Perfect Summer Reading for a someone who hasn't had a brain that might concentrate on words on the page for many, many months. Here's my accomplished list for the week.
Jane Green - To Have and to Hold
The condition - Jennifer
HaighThe Story Sisters - Alice Hoffman
The Cottagers - Marshall N.
KlimasewiskiSongs Without Words - Ann Packer
My youngest son joined me most of the week. We ate frozen pizzas and he made
spaghetti one night. Green chili macaroni and cheese another. Middle son came home on his day off from his new job 3 hours away. And one morning, my oldest, now married son showed as well. He's working out this way two days a week. Came by to use the bathroom and invite me to lunch. How fun was that - lunch at the Bluebonnet Cafe with all three of my sons. Can't tell you when the last time that happened.
But, life does have it exigencies as well. Wednesday night I sat reading on the front porch as a cold front blew in. The wind changed direction and gathered speed. My hanging plants rocked back and forth, then began to swirl. The sky filled with ominous shades of blue and those marshmallow-like clouds you imagine reaching up and plucking.
I gathered the chairs and took them inside, the wind gaining in force with each re-entry to the porch. I picked up the hanging plants and as I came around to the breezeway of the porch, the wind's power almost knocked me over. I recalled Auntie Em, hand on forehead, screaming for Dorothy.
Safe in my big blue reading chair looking out over the lake, my chair began to shake. The entire cabin shook. Then, flying at my window was the roof of the neighbor's dock. Smashed into the railing on our porch. Rattled the crap out of me.
The rain arrived, and the thunder, and my son and I watched the remainder of the neighbors roof flap in the storm, wondering if that, too, might join our yard. As the storm subsided, the neighbor rushed over. We viewed the damage, thankful no one was hurt.
Yes, that is a two by four slammed into the wood. The wind, an unforgiving force at times.
The missing roof section.
The storm passed and this most beautiful sunset took its place.
Had to leave the stud in the wall for a few days - at least until my husband, my stud, arrived to see it. And all the neighbors who came down for the weekend had a chance for a view. Always something to fix at the lake.
Now, two New Yorkers left to catch up on and then I'm back to my
bookclub selection of the month - The Speckled Monster - A Historical Tale of Battling Smallpox. Fun summer reading.
(Searching my shelf for smut.)Tomorrow, back to reality and all those piles of paperwork requiring my attention. I stuffed them all out of sight before the graduation party. I wonder where?
