The annual slow down.

This is one of those rare, quiet weeks, following Labor Day, still warm but beginning to feel that chill in the evening breeze.  Not a lot going on around the homestead and the lake calm, settled.  Our boats are not yet out so we have taken a few lazy, slow cruises in the early evening.  We’ve built fires and sat around watching the sky darken, said our good nights to the day over a glass of wine, a hunk of cheese.  It’s rained a bit and the flowers are tossing their goodbyes, petal by petal, into the wind.

 

Up early on Saturday, hubs and I went down to the courthouse area and strolled through vendor booths, at an annual festival.  I then asked if we could go to the greenhouse and pick up a large mum, and maybe a couple smaller ones, for some pots around the house that I haven't yet filled.  Now, this was an amazing feat…an arts and crafts festival AND a trip to the greenhouse? To buy stuff? Rare in this house for him to go along, but go along he did as I walked up and down the aisles at the greenhouse trying to make a size and color choice.  It’s only one dang pot of mums for crying out loud, just pick one.  I could hear it as clearly as if it were spoken out loud.  Only it wasn’t from him, it was me.

 

I don’t want that orangey bronze…too close in color to the millions of leaves we will soon have fluttering into the yard.  I don’t want yellow, again, too close in color, but, we also have so many yellow daffodils in the spring I want something different, and the pots are yellow, so no.   No to white for no particular reason, just no.  Lavender pink? No, not vivid enough. Red? Sure, red! Of course, red.  My favorite color, duh.  Now, which one? Perhaps a hundred pots of red mums to pick from.  Not enough buds, too many buds.  I can’t tell, how do I know for sure this one is red? Is it round? Does that look a little caved in to you?

We settled on a nice fully rounded, deep crimson, with about half and half blooms and buds, and two smaller pots to combine into one planter ... one of them yellow. Cause yellow mums, hello.  We talked about future boxes for the deck, once the railing is complete, so not this year but next year, look out.  Loaded the mums in the back of his car, talked of the work he has planned for the rest of the day but, hey, let’s take a ride first.  I don't know if I have ever been down this road.

We’ve got nowhere to be and no one coming in for the weekend, yes, let's take a ride.

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Not yet, not yet.

And, just like that, it’s over. 

I sat on the screened porch this morning enjoying a bowl of oatmeal, thinking about how nice the warm goo felt going into my throat and belly, and looked towards the corner stacked with little kids life vests and beach towels.  “So, I guess I could put those away.” was the thought that strolled around in my brain. Along with “But, I don’t WANT to…”

A definite change every year when the first football game at the high school is played, the school bus begins to honk it’s horn for the children in the neighborhood, the life vests get put away.  We talked this weekend about pulling the boats out and I began to plan the annual chili party.  It popped in to my head that last year the chili party was during the major league play-offs and we combined a game viewing with the event, had a great time AND a positive outcome. Will the Cubs make it that far this year?

I watched this morning as one lonely looking pontoon boat puttered across my view.  I could see that its passengers were in long sleeves and sat huddled together, except for the captain who pulled at his coat collar while drifting by, his motor sputtering to a halt.  Are they going to fish? I wondered, or is that engine trouble?

Casual, lazy thoughts as acorns plunked the roof and deck.  A couple of sun bleached beach towels flap themselves dry in the cloudy breeze, remnants of the weekend and I find myself wondering if it’s time to sort through beach towels, casting some in to the rag bag and refreshing others with a good wash and dry to be folded, stored until next year. Should I bring the chairs in? I need to cover the fire pit table.  Are we going to leave it out all winter? (Winter? I tend to get ahead of myself sometimes). There’s still a lot of good fires, and fire pit conversations that can be had…it’s only the last few days of August! I resolve to fluff the pillows and sweep off the spider webs…there’s lots of time to party, for family and fun.   And then I remember school nights and dance practice and marching band competitions.  The busy fall flexing its muscles before me, reminding me of who is in charge, better not plan too many fireside chats, girl, or you’ll be talking to yourself.