As I sit here thinking about what to say I am amazed at how life springs up in my little neighborhood. At 8 am I rolled out of bed and the only residents awake were the chipper birds and a sleepy Rupert (my resident stray cat) lazily waiting for me to fill his food dish. After refilling each of my three bird feeders, cleaning and refilling Rupert's dish, and tying up droopy tomato stalks it's 9 am and life is just barely starting to spring up around me. It has rained the whole day prior and I imagine people rolling over in their feathery soft beds shunning the light just now peeking out of the clouds. I smile. It's nice to be awake before the world and not feel rushed that you have to be somewhere doing something.
As I make my way back into the house, setting out a frozen biscuit for a late breakfast, I wander back to my little desk to stare at the blank page that has been plaguing me for over a week. I have an idea for something else I want to write, but the words aren't coming. Every sentence feels dull and lifeless. Deep down, I know why this is. I have been watching the world around me and have the building desire to journal it's happenings, and when you're a writer, to ignore the call is surely certain death. So, I put those ideas aside. I have been blocked for two weeks now, unsure of what to write and yet now the words arrive with an effortless grace. I will always always be amazed at the ebb and flow that is the writing process.
It's nearly 10 o'clock now and life is all abuzz. My neighbor across the way has already woken up carrying his golf clubs out to his truck, ready for a cool and pleasant day on the green. As he pulls out of his drive way an ocean of water seeps out the bed of his pickup truck. I chuckle to myself as I never realized that people with truck must deal with that scenario every time it rains. Next door, the very young renter and her last night entourage are awaken by an old hispanic man knocking on her front door. He has just pulled up in a small black truck with his son and three grandchildren in tow. They are ready to mow her lawn but cannot because there seem to be too many vehicles in front of her house. Slowly she and two other young men leave the house, one shirtless, one looking about on the edge of death, to move their cars around. They saunter back into the house, no doubt to slumber the day away, as is common with most young people today. As they walk back into their refuge, I cannot help thinking to myself, 'hope last night was worth it'. Immediately the hispanic men get to work, including the oldest grandson, who looks to be about middle school age. Within 30 minutes, the yard is mowed, edged, and cleared of any debris. All the while I watch the two youngest grandsons. They are obviously twins. Together they sit patiently in the truck playing with one another and waiting to undoubtedly move on to the next house. I wonder when they will be asked to take part in the family business. Will they pursue a higher education? Will they take over the business clearly established by their grandfather? I can only hope that whatever they choose, they will be as hard working members of society as their father and grandfather surely are. Now, more trucks have arrived with their mowing gear, the walkers and runner have started making their circuits around the neighborhood, and cars pass down the street in abundance; running errands, shuffling children, meeting friends and family. The sun is slowly working it's way out of the maze of clouds and fog hanging on from the previous day's sky, and it is a typical day in America.
Tomato Blossoms.
My Tomato plants are huge and full of blooms. I cannot wait for my first tomato this summer!
Green beans are perfect for the lazy gardener.
Annie, doing her 'squirrel beg' pose.
One of my favorite things I inherited with this house is my Rose of Sharon tree, cleverly hidden in the back of the house. It will be covered in blooms like this until the end of summer.
My first resident to discover the new bird feeder in the back yard.
A quick cross stitch update. I am almost done with the first copy.
My latest green been harvest. They'll make a lovely addition to Sunday dinner.
