Outside is usually Jeff’s domain. Not that I’m never there—I must traverse the yard to get to my car, and I am responsible for any exterior maintenance that happens. Mostly, these days, that’s feeding birds and controlling insects. I’m just not big into trying to turn a suburban plot of ⅓ acre into the kind of masterpiece some folks value. And we’ve got too many shade trees to grow veggies, which might strike me as a worthwhile enterprise.
But Jeff, in the state of “can’t really do anything-ness” in which he exists these days, finds wandering about the yard a nice change from wandering about the house, and I can’t blame him on a day like today.
For the moment, I have toted my mini-Mac and my phone (so as to get updates from Olivia, if she’s detained at work) to the front porch, and the temperature (probably about 75℉ right here) and light breeze are the perfect accompaniment to one of those green rocking chairs I spend a summer trying to find and now don’t use nearly often enough.
Now I’m thinking of that first trio of rockers, ordered from L.L. Bean, which came “ready to assemble,” but wouldn’t go together no way, no how. I tried two of the three before requesting to return them. (One in partially glued together condition. That took a special box.) Shortly thereafter, those particular rockers disappeared from the Bean catalog, never to be seen again. Not surprising. I’ve often wondered whether if a passingly handy person like me couldn’t do it, could anyone? Later I ordered these ones (one of which I’m now sitting in) from a furniture company in North Carolina, and put them together with no trouble.
Anyway, the tulip poplar right in front of me is so enormous that it blocks about a quarter of my view to the road, but I can’t complain about its shade. (I can complain about the branch its sister dropped on my car in February though.)
But look—there’s Olivia’s car pulling up
(see? I see it.) Gotta skedaddle. Lunch and groceries to do.
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