car talk

sometimes, when i'm driving alone, i talk to myself. yes, out loud. usually it's replays of insignificant conversations i've had in the recent past, interactions i've had where i've said the wrong thing, given bad advice, made the foolish comment, been too tongue-tied to say anything at all. but in the car, i get it right. i am insightful. i am witty. i am astute. 

i know how pathetic this must sound. but it's not the reworking of the conversations that bothers me. it's the fact that i do it at all. am i destined to become one of those old ladies who carries on a conversation with herself, even when she's not alone in the car? this is what concerns me the most!

for a change

a while back, when one or another of the seasons were changing, someone commented that it seems we are unhappy with the season we have and are always looking forward to the one that's not yet here. i've been pondering this as summer changes to autumn. i do love summer and i hate to see it ending - but the anticipation of cool air, clear nights, vibrant colors, and all things fall is still somehow exciting yet comforting to me. i love to get ready for fall - and i'm almost there.

my favorite socks

oh darn.

close call

here we are, only in the midst of september and last night we had our first frost advisory! there's another posted for tonight but since we escaped it last night, it's unlikely it will happen tonight either. phew! i adore fall - but i'm not sure i'm ready to totally give up summer just yet!

september 12 of 12: small joys

after being so melancholy yesterday, i woke up this morning happy to find a new day before me. i had no real plan for the 12 of 12 for the month, and just began taking pictures of things that made me smile and feel happy again.

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morning fog. truly, it doesn't happen often enough in these parts for me. but when it does, i love walking outside and into it, knowing that it's just a big cloud all around me. fog always makes the world feel so ethereal and magical. 

commuter coffee. it still feels like an indulgence after all these years of drinking my second cup of the day in the car.

light up sneakers. i laugh watching kids run in these, with their toes all blinking and flashing off and on. i wonder about how the shoe is made to do such amazing things. and i secretly wish someone would manufacture them in adult sizes.

missing teeth. always good for a big smile. from me and from the small friend.

prepaid gift cards. cleaning the dashboard cubby and finding there's the price of a few coffees still left on them.

late summer on one side of the road...

and early fall on the other!

crisp white architecture. i have passed this house at least five times a week for the last thirty years. and i never really noticed the wondrous detail in it until today, when i stopped the car to photograph something else!

bare feet in the cool grass. after a long day of standing on them, i'm very happy it's still warm enough to do this!

the last black-eyed susan of the summer. even though it's pretty scraggily, it was a big decision whether to pick it and bring it into the house. i ended up leaving it in the yard, thinking it might last a little longer that way.

tree silhouettes against an evening sky. any time of year, these amaze me. so detailed and intricate, they make me wish i could draw them with pen and ink. 

the almost-full harvest moon. it lights up the night and makes the landscape almost as ethereal as the morning fog did.

a decade later

today was a hard day, much tougher than i ever imagined it would be, full of memories of the 9-11 attack on this country ten years ago. even a decade later, i cannot bear to see the photographs, watch the video, hear the accounts of that day. this week i've tried to watch some of the tributes that have emerged but even they are still too jarring, too surreal. today i found myself silently crying at times and unconsciously praying at others - and i was full of restless energy. so i created a baking frenzy in the kitchen this morning, my default activity when i am upset. later i cleaned and scrubbed and organized, trying to create order. outside, i marveled at the sunshine and the bright blue sky, so reminiscent of that tragic day. at the end of the day, i went out to find the perfect photo to represent my feelings about today. and i just couldn't.

ticket to ride

brilliant sunshine after a week of rain, driving home earlyish on a friday afternoon, singing along to twenty-nine of the beatles greatest hits on the ipod. what could be better?

time for mums

normally i don't buy chrysanthemums this early. but i couldn't bypass this vibrant color, new to me, and was afraid if i waited, it would be gone. so bring on fall. i have mums and i'm ready. 

labor day laundry

here it is, a day from labor day, and i still have not replaced my defunct clothes dryer, gone now for over ninety days. not a great clothesline day today so here i am at the laundromat, drying my clothes with quarters. i wonder if this may become the norm as i return to work - and i'm not looking forward to those prospects. when will i make the time in my busy life to do this? what will i give up? yet as i watch my wardrobe tumble, i reflect on times past, when there were no electric dryers and no laundromats and i wonder how families managed to clean clothes then. clearly, their laboring must have been very different from mine. i'll try to be mindful of that when i next feel like complaining about my situation. and i'm going to keep looking at dryer sales.

late summer's eve

evenings seem to come earlier and earlier these days. as the daylight dims, the air cools quicker and there's a faint anticipation of fall to the air. biting insects are just about gone now and the yard becomes an outdoor extension of the house - quiet spots to read or work or dream. birdsong in the evening has ceased, sadly, but has been replaced by a chorale of crickets singing well into the night, an end-of-summer lullaby drifting through the still-open windows.

oh, what a beautiful morning

this is the tune i whistled well into the afternoon! have you noticed how the day after a storm is always spectacular? bright blue sky, clean invigorating air? the kind of day when all's right with the world? today was such a day. not much to write about - but a magnificent end to my summer. 

hurricane

squash blossom in the compost pile - through the window, through the rain, through the tropical storm winds. so far, power is holding. hope the trees do, too. 

battening down the hatches

hurricane preparedness this calm saturday morning - so serene and peaceful it's hard to believe threatening weather's even coming. you know me by now - i love a good storm! but this one has me jumpy and nervous, pacing like an animal. perhaps my latent sense of doom-and-gloom kicking in. lessons learned in all this already: text messages can still be transmitted when cell networks become bogged down. and if power goes out, a bowl of ice cubes in the freezer are an indicator of the condition of frozen food. who knew? if you're an east coast reader, be safe and keep in touch. for myself, i plan to read and sleep and, god willing, blog on monday.

color's coming

reds amongst the green. 

just in time for cool clear nights and back to school days. 

what are the chances?

barely awake this morning, sitting in my dentist's office waiting for my 7:30 a.m. appointment, i turned to part III of my current book and began to read. and was astounded to find myself reading about, of all things, snail's teeth!

...My snail possessed 2,640 teeth...the teeth point inward so as to give the snail a firm grasp on its food; with about 33 teeth per row and maybe eighty or so rows, they form a multi-toothed ribbon called a radula, which works much like a rasp.
what are the chances of reading about teeth while in a dentist's office?? so entertained was i by this bit of happenstance, i had to share the humor with the hygienist. i also left a photocopy of the pages in question with the assistant who checked me out before i left. you must give it to the dentist, i said, because he told me before he was a dentist, he was a biologist! and i left hoping she would share the pages with him. i also left really glad i was not a snail with 2,640 teeth for him to examine and the hygienist to clean!

imagine that

marching across the yard yesterday, carrying her creation, after deciding she needed to make this sign that reads stop. i have no idea where she comes up with these things. 

today she asks if i noticed any animals stopping overnight. 

these are the times i'll remember when i think back to this summer. 

the promise of poppies

well, i don't know how it happened, but apparently i've had more than just that one poor pitiful poppy i wrote about a few weeks back. here i am with four pods, each filled with seed, i trust. imagine the potential for next year's flowers! now, the question is this: should i harvest the seed and save it to scatter in spring? or just let the pods open naturally and self-seed?

august 12 of 12: tasks left undone

last night i sat down and made a list of all the chores and projects i wanted to finish this summer. suffice it to say, there is much left to do and precious little time in which to do it! here's a pictorial representation of only a dozen tasks that i really wanted to have accomplished before school kicks in again next week!

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i bought these impatiens in june because they were so unusual. i loved the yellow petals and the pinky centers and had planned to have them grace the step by the back door. they're at the back door, all right - still in their original nursery pots and looking terribly leggy.

this spring i broke down and finally bought a good scanner. i have so many photos of my own family and recently acquired many more from my childhood. best to have them in digital format, i rationalized, so they can be identified, shared and preserved. yet the only photo i've scanned so far is one of my mother that i posted as a profile picture for mother's day. perhaps it will be a better winter project...

i have to get a new cellphone. in the great cellphone scheme of things, this one does nothing. i was going to make the switch this summer, actually walked into a store to do it. but it was crowded and overwhelming and i left. that was weeks ago. i'm embarrassed to say i am two years out of contract. two. so neither my cellphone nor i is very smart. 

i love the tv show the big bang theory but came late to the party and missed the first two seasons. i so wanted to get caught up this summer. episodes are 30 minutes - only 25 without the commercials. and i still have a whole disk left to go. or maybe it's two. 

my desk is a mess. i think i'm organized and it ends up looking like this. those are all the important papers i need to save. not bills, mind you - those i have filed carefully. these are warranties and yearly notices and cds of the girl's wedding five years ago. i need to organize this space. if not, it will only get worse. much worse.

i'm pretty short for a grown-up and for years i've used this old oak school chair as a step-stool. the finish has always been ratty but now it's spattered with every color paint in the house. this was the summer i was going to paint it mustard yellow to match my decor and put it in the kitchen for the little girl to sit on - and for me to continue stepping on. if i wait another year, the little girl may be too big for it!

this is one of my five gmail accounts. i use gmail because you can archive your messages out of (your) sight but they're still searchable because they're on google's servers. all i have to do is remember to read/delete/archive on a regular basis. and i don't. i need to clean up these accounts for the same reason i need to clean up my desk (see above).

months ago, an old friend left this on my doorstep filled with my favorite flowers. i leave this on my kitchen counter to remind me to call. and i have not. of all the things i've not done this summer, this is the one that nags at  me the most.

this collection represents about a third of the baskets i own. before i buy any more, i need to find a purpose for these or give them away. but i love them all.....

and if that's not bad enough, i need to get rid of this piece of furniture. i have no room or use for it. i've shuffled it from room to room for three summers now, procrastinating because it's so near and dear to my heart. it's the first piece of furniture i ever finished, forty years ago this summer. and i love those tombstone doors as much today as i did then.

see the fading on these curtains? the others in the room are worse. i've been throwing different color and pattern dishtowels and cloth napkins over the curtain rods all summer trying to find something i like as much as what i already have. time to decide - and hope i can live with the decision!

and look. i haven't even gotten my june pedicure yet.  maybe i could get a september one instead!

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lest you think i'm a pitiful, whiny so-and-so, know that, in my own right, my summer has been quite productive. and i will keep working on this list. maybe i'll be able to complete everything by the first day of fall!

impatiens and basket.  check!

signs along the way

some people are so clever. i saw lots of signs that made me smile or laugh out loud while i was off on my end-of-summer adventure. my favorites:

and this one that's not only funny, it's true...

away time

the top ten ways you can tell a vacation is perfect: 

#10: you love the audiobook you listen to for 12 hours in the car

#9: a side trip off the beaten path yields a fabulous new shop that's just your style

#8: the sound of gulls mixes with the drone of the engines of lobster boats

#7: the red sox beat the yankees - twice!

#6: crabmeat rolls for lunch and lobster rolls for dinner

#5: you wake up in the early morning light, smile out the window at the boats and the fog, read a little bit, then go back to sleep - and dream

#4: goose grass greens and pretzel m&ms

#3: the hostess with the mostess may not understand the desire for quiet and solitude, but she sure does honor it!

#2: great finds at flea markets

and the number one way you can tell a vacation is perfect:

already, you can't wait to go back next summer!

august morning

mornings like this one, i want to wrap up and tuck away for a winter's day. bottle a day like today in a mason jar and take it out and drink it when it's cold and snowy. fold it tightly into the pages of a book so it will burst forth as i read by the woodstove in early darkness. stick it in a shaker box and put it on a shelf til january so i can take it down and marvel at its light and hold its warmth to my cheek. but the best i can do is to still my heart, and watch and listen, then breathe deeply of august before i depress the shutter release, and hope the resulting photo will capture the essence of this splendid summer morning.