Columbus Day

Today was grand.  I forgot to turn off my school day alarm, and after I stayed up really late last night (2 am-ish), I slapped it off when it made its chirky little chiming at 5, and struggled to right myself mentally.  I was inches away from staggering to the shower when it occurred to me that TODAY WAS NOT A SCHOOL DAY.  That felt better than I can tell you.

Then Mom called at 6:15.

I managed to sleep late for me despite all obstacles, and then I moved to the couch for a mini-marathon of TV courtesy of the Roku.  The day outside was too delicious to resist, though, and so about noon, I went out and repaired my clothesline, pole newly welded and quickcreted in the ground as of yesterday.  I did some laundry, hung out all my bedding, and started a few outdoor chores such as changing out my banner to a Halloween one and so forth.  Chewie and Roux kept me company when they weren't too busy ambushing each other.

I planted my yellow rose finally.  It is between two old pink ones in the bed around where I hang my hammock.  I sort of think of it as having Nana around where Granny is now, since the two pink ones are some of Granny's old roses.  I hope it will do well there.  Chewie and Roux already dug up some of the soft dirt beside it once.  Dog chastisement followed, and I put a small cairn of stones around it until they lose interest, so I don't know.  Everything has to be complicated with the canine army around here....

After I took care of a few more small tasks, moving rocks, resituating the bulbs I'd unearthed when I planted the rose, and so on, I hung my hammock up.  Today was practically made for a hammock.  The sun was brushing everything in that light that looks like a coat of honey, and the wind was rustling all the leaves in the trees like a soft and perpetual sigh.  I grabbed the book I'm working on now, Reading Lolita in Tehran, a bottle of water, my journal, and spent most of the rest of the day in the hammock.  Roux and Chewie hung out with me when they weren't frolicking elsewhere.

I'd read for awhile, and then I'd just stop and look around.  The day was just that delicious.  The lantanas over next to my garden shed are more gorgeous this year than they have ever been.  The last of the summer butterflies are all over them.  Ageratum  is blooming in the flowerbed where I planted my rose, and a few straggling pink blossoms on those roses still remain.  The tulip poplars that support my hammock are starting to change color, and occasionally one of their leaves would spiral down.  Chewie would grab one and carry it around in his mouth as though he'd caught a living creature.  I didn't question him.  He was full of canine dignity at his conquest.

As the evening came and the sun dropped behind the treeline, the woods filled with a light I always associate with the light in my dreams.  I always sort of expect to look up and see elves or a creature from myth walk out of the opening to the path there when that gilded brilliance drops.  More likely, I'll see a deer, I suppose, but I can't quite shake that feeling that at that time of the day, there is more to what I'm seeing than...well...what I'm seeing.

Eventually, even the best day ends, and I rolled up the hammock, brought my laundry and feather mattress in off the line, and came inside.  I had dinner with my parents, and then I came home to work on my online class for TGC.  I'm listening to music and the sound of snoring, exhausted dogs.  In a few minutes, I'll get up from here and go make up my bed with clean giraffe-print sheets and bedding that smells of fabric softener, sunshine, and autumn wind.  Not a bad ending to a day, if I do say so myself.