Waiter there is a fly in my soup! and a horse in my car. It’s Brumby. Brumplestiltskin. It is a sunny day for the first of April, April Fool’s, the month of openings. What does it mean to open? Where is the purple pebbly notebook I would use to start this month? Must I substitute the M R 4 from Spain?
The options for today are work at this, work at that, go around taking pictures of Easter schlock, visit the barn, compliment the blacksmith and use flattery to obtain six or eight horseshoe nails so I can make a plaque for Sonny who not only changed the oil in the Aveo yesterday for my 9:00 appointment for which I arrived at 9:30 because I was talking to Ruth on the trail at length about dating, but also rotated the tires at no extra charge and that kind of service cannot be bought.
I may attend an auction, go swimming, catch up on letters and gifts to make and send, prepare merchandise for blanket vending or booth/table sales, whichever comes first, fix the scanner (HP you are pissing me off), annoy people and clean my room. Clean my room is a euphemism for general puttering around the house, and there is plenty to be done here, such as clean the porch outside the kitchen, plant seeds in pots, purchase or barter for pansies to plant in the containers on either side of the front door and make things, paintings, cards and merchandise, for example.
At the park today, creek water comes rushing over the dam looking like ocean surf after it hits the beach, roiled and foamy and swirling. The patch of Dutchman’s Breeches near the 7 post had bloomed yesterday; the tiny pantaloons hang upside-down, puffed with air this morning. Heron, heron, my kingdom for a heron! None since the rain.
Near the rest rooms, a mop is propped up against a post to dry in the morning sun, the mop bucket is upside-down on the concrete walk, with the press part is separated out, at the edge where the grass begins. This art of maintenance installation is the work of Rick, one of the park’s best caretakers. The bathrooms smell refreshed with pine oil. A visitor to the ladies’ room asks me if the trail is muddy and I tell her think she will find it is fairly clean, navigable and mud-free as long as she stays out of the creek.
My socks cry to be adjusted, forcing me to stop at the Milk House to pull them up over each heel. Victor and Rick converse from rear wheel to rear wheel across the bed of Rick’s pickup truck. Victor at the passenger side; Rick is at the driver’s. Between them travels a top-secret, sinister exchange which includes the word “Dahlia” and the phrase “mow the grass later.” There’s always something to do. How long will it take? What are the ingredients?
The DURO 4 bag from the bakery this morning bears the stamps OCT 29 09 ANA COBO. What was I were you doing on the day she produced this item?
The Heron Report 