It is a bright sunny morning, and the hillside is almost completely covered with green. I happened to stay up far too late watching old time 70s British sitcoms on YouTube. I fell into kind a loop and couldn’t extract myself but finally just fell asleep. Which meant not waking up until the sun was well into the sky. Almost didn’t know what it was, it’s been so long since we’ve seen it.
I think I will take the opportunity to clean out the garage. That sounds fun doesn’t it? Better than cleaning the basement. That will have to wait for another day of rain.
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Matt tells me it’s national donut week. I know I fussed and complained about having too many holidays to celebrate, and remembrances, but maybe I could make an exception for this one. Einkorn Donuts. Cough. That sounds perfectly healthy.
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The main thing about this week is that I want to really and truly finish my school year, and deal with the two remaining areas of unhappiness in my house–a large pile of accumulated stuff in the basement, and the large piles of accumulated stuff in the garage. I don’t approve of these large piles of accumulated stuff. I don’t mean to just accumulate stuff. I don’t even know what most of it is. I don’t know why it gets shoved into a large pile and left there, forever being added to but never being subtracted from. It’s like my own micro landfill.
I keep trying to whisper to myself helpful reminders like “A Place for Everything and Everything in its Place” and “Only Handle It Once”. Sometimes I say these things out loud, but whoever is standing there always looks at me in alarm, like I am speaking a foreign language and they’ve misplaced their dictionary. Then I scowl and make an equally incompressible speech about clutter.
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The lilac is blooming. I ordered a white lilac on Amazon a few years ago. It didn’t occur to me to go to a garden store. I was desperate for a lilac and an heirloom tomato and so I got online, and both were available for a steal, or so it seemed to me. So I clicked Buy Now and two days later they both arrived on my door step. Much later I happened to be wandering through a garden store and it struck me that perhaps my instincts are awry. Why don’t I think of the physicality of a store first? Why is my First Thought Amazon? Anyway, the lilac is lovely–lacy and delicate.
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For Mother’s Day a friend gave me The Barbara Pym Cookbook, knowing that I would not request it from the library, being lazy and evil. It is the most marvelous book in the universe. Potted Ham, Asparagus Mousse, Boeuf a la Mode–so many important dishes to begin cooking At Once.
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Alouicious’ long promised birthday present (ordered from China, incidentally) finally arrived. Thought it was going to be a remotely controlled car with some sort of a camera attached, but it appears we have bought him a drone–a drone that makes the noise of a thousand mosquitos. He keeps flying it over to me, I suppose to show that he can, and is then surprised when I leap up in alarm.
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Goodness, the sun is so bright. I’d better gather up my caffeine and take a turn about the garden, just to see what weeds have come up. I have two books percolating in the back of my mind. The first I’d like to call Anne and her Binghamton Garden in which I will elaborate on the totality of my gardening experience. It will be no more than a little pamphlet, available for cents from Amazon (that was just a little joke). Because that’s how much I know. The second book I’d like to call From Binghamton to Babylon: Essays in Exile. A great uplifting tome, naturally. I’m going to stop messing about here and go mess about somewhere else. Pip Pip.
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