You know that feeling when a long-awaited work break is right around the corner, how every minute seems to drag its heels in ten feet of mud and all the clocks have stopped changing their numbers?It’s late in the afternoon on the second Monday of August. I’m up in my therapy office two hours before my only appointment of the day because no matter what you may have heard, life in Austin, Texas is a recurrent nightmare in which you find out that because of the dissolute life you have lead, you will now spend eternity in traffic hell. It’s risky enough to try to get from here to there at 3:00 p.m.; if I’d left the house any later it would have been an hour’s drive at minimum. Twelve miles.
Outside my office window at least, all is not
Vacation is four days away and I am counting the minutes.
While elsewhere in the country this is the
Yesterday I cut one of the herb gardens to the ground. If we have any rain, fine; if not, that’s where spinach, chard, and kale – the only foods I seem able to grow – will go in a few weeks anyway. The caterpillars have taken full advantage of all my parsley, so it will be time for a few new plants; I’ll put in flat-leaf for us and curly for the butterflies.
Yesterday also saw me stuck on the couch
By October I’ll have cleared away all the non-survivors from the sidewalk garden and all I’ll have to do is stir up the ground a little and throw down handfuls of seeds. At three years of age, the sidewalk garden has enough established plants and enough cactus/agave types to be able to hold its own with just a spray of wildflowers for spring and early summer color. I know we’re supposed to be mad at Amazon for something or other, but how long can I stay mad at an entity that brings stuff to my door almost as soon as I had the notion to buy it?
Other than that, I haven’t done a thing. Now how many minutes is it to vacation?
This past weekend was the superest
By the time a vacation arrives, I always feel like Malamud’s sin eater, loaded to the gills with all the worst humanity has to offer. Not surprising when you listen to peoples’ sorrows for a living, but a clear signal that I’ve waited too long to escape.
There were a few joyful moments, though, like the night I brought Travis outside for his last potty of the evening and saw a fat toad in a patch of grass beside the road. I knew I’d heard toad singing in the yard, but I hadn’t seen any yet. He was right on the brink of hopping into the road, and even though our street is quiet, I’ve seen enough flattened toads to want to encourage him back toward the house. I managed to coax him into the bushes, but must assume that after I retreated to the house he turned right around and went where he’d intended to go in the first place.
As I headed inside, I saw his significant
It’s one of the reasons why I put my foot down every time Floyd threatens to call an exterminator just because ants are parading through the kitchen. I prefer to take care of the ants myself and not call someone in who will spray every square inch of the property with poison, wiping out every spider, lizard, and toad who calls our house home. I watched a little lizard die at the hands of a bug spraying guy, and I will never get over it.
See what happens when I am sorely in need of vacation? Even a pleasant interlude spirals into thoughts of suffering and tragedy. Nothing can cure me now but two weeks of Mary, Mary’s cooking, and the Pacific.
It is now Thursday morning, my last day