Glow

Early in the morning I walk out into the yarden- the grass is wet, the air coolish- I would like to say everything smells good, clean but it doesn't.  Today the air smells faintly of the turkey farm down the road, the pumping station chemicals and just the funky-country-fertilized field smell that happens sometimes.  But the doves are calling (one of my favorite bird sounds ever, along with red-winged blackbirds, owls and crows), the spiders are checking their webs for breakfast, the sun isn't quite up yet- everything is soft and damp and green and gray.  Our glads have been blooming- pink, bright red/orange, purple and the lovely strange green ones that we bought on a whim.  The manz picks glads for me, puts them in a ginger jar by the desk.  Other things are blooming as well- the petunias are growing, the lavender has spikes (I am absurdly proud of the lavender for growing so well), the butterfly bushes are yellow, pink, dark purple.  The wild spiderwort opens and shuts with the sun, the roses take turns, everywhere is clover, wood sorrel, other tiny wild blooms.  The morning glories/ moon flowers that I planted- those that grow so well wild, and for everyone else, have yet to do more than shoot up two leaves which are promptly eaten by whatever eats those things..... they won't grow but other vines are running rampart over the yard, trees, porch and invading the window above the sink.

It's been a strange summer so far- early storms, school schedules switched up at the last moment, and I am not quite functioning as normal.  I am sleepy, and my brain simply refuses to complete tasks- it wanders off and away, I forget things, get caught up in nets of others making.  I try to be disciplined, get my grades in, portfolios together, plans for next year, leadership and organization and all of those ducks into a row- but then I find myself one day after exams reading aloud to the class (by request.  M.R. James 'The Haunted Dollhouse'- doing all the accents that I can).  Another day Sara tells my fortune, and I tell Rachael's.  The kids eat minty m&m's and powdery doughnuts and wait for the bell to ring- I mark time and think of projects but then go home and take a nap.  Watch tv with the manz, not even drawing or sewing.  Spend all day Saturday with Grendel- he takes me out for belated Mother's Day, lunch at Ruby Tuesday's, double movies.  We take George to the reptile check and Grendel decides to give him over to the rescue people- George has an eye infection and needs care that we cannot give him (who turns out to be a her... no car, no vet.)  Sad but for the best, and I am grateful that Grendel has the wisdom to choose what is best.  I go home, eat church-ham (brought over by the folks) , forbidden brownies, go to sleep again.

This is transition time.  I am at once slow and lazy- recollecting my energy- and full of ideas, ambitions, plans.  For example right now I know that after writing this I must work on my virtual school photography class stuff (summer teaching, it begins Monday-week), get the rest of whatever together for my summative tomorrow, go to Wal-mart and purchase the frames for the artwork for the superintendent.  (For some reason I can't stand framing artwork- it does look better, but is expensive and difficult- to me- and I always try to make my own art to where it doesn't need framed).  I want to clean the house- dust and vacuum, sort and wash, scrub down floors and let the sun in.  I want to get out into the yarden and pull weeds, cut and trim, name flowers.  I want to work in the new book that I've started, paint and draw and carefully record information that I already know but want to put down again.  I want to check off this to do list, give the stinky doggs a well-needed bath, get those ducks in a row.....and I get excited about all these things, eager to accomplish them- but then, when I go to actually do them, its like moving through molasses and I just want to sleep. curious.

But today I am feeling ready to do- so I am just going to begin walking and see where this takes me.  Hopefully to the end of the road, ready to regroup and start again, out in the dawn of the next new day.