Wetting and Whetting

The rains have pummeled us the past few days, fog lifting late from the river, creating an ominous landscape from our windshield view. It has offered time to re-organize cabinet space, making the placement of daily needs more user- friendly. We moved pots, pans, and tupperware to eye level cabinets, relegating the waffle maker, crock pot, steamer, and griddles to the new credenza located behind the dinette. This will keep us from bending incessantly to reach those items needed more frequently. Now isn’t this an anomoly? We walk, ride bicycles, and lift weights daily in order to reign in the waistlines, yet defer from any additional bending to procure cookware. Aren’t we the self-defeating ones?

The precipitation has provided the impetus to render tax documents, tallying receipts, and prepping all the forms to send along with more money to Washington in expectation that they’ll use it again without our approval. Occasionally the skies will open and I’ll tend to our lettuce plants. We’ve also started basil from seeds but they don’t seem to be doing as well.as  We constructed a small greenhouse the other day and moved the plants in. The additional heat created by the plastic has worked to our advantage. It’s my thought that this tiny bit of gardening provides solace and a sense of creation. We have been doing some sort of gardening for our last thirty five years together. I  believe everything of virtue springs from the soil.

We have been entertained with squirrels everywhere we go. However, one particular sciuridae here at Yellow Jacket resort has been brazen enough to allow us to feed him. He scurries down the cypress trunks, lighting on the picnic table, nibbling at the crushed walnuts Robin has purchased for him at the local Walmart. He now looks for us on a daily basis,  braving to come closer and closer to our offerings.

Laundry and re-arrangement within the trailer has dotted the spaces in between tasks. We’re still finding things in storage that we don’t really need, and once again its give away time, lightening the load in our storage unit. But it was not all work the past two days. We did find time for relaxation and fun.

At each weeks end, ‘rivertales’ is held down at site #15,  the home of Dick and Carol. This is more than just cocktails near the river, so much more. There are approximately twenty of us that bring hors de’ ovres, appetizers, and spirits, to the camaraderie with a campfire providing the centerpiece.  We know each other, yet we are strangers who can create and spin stories to our liking. The intense encounters leave a fragrant pollen on the sills and eaves of our memory. We entertain one another for a couple of hours and then couple by couple we disipate into the darkenss, heading for our mobile cocoons, to begin our nightly rituals. We shall gather once again at twilight on Sunday. This time it will be in the clubhouse to watch the Steelers as they ascend the “stairway to Seven.”