May 31, 2010. Monday.
Situation: No work today. I do have to mow the lawn, though, and don’t take Mway out till after I finish, about 5:30. (Instead of my usual wool walking socks, I wear regular, and cooler, socks, which I keep on for the walk.)
State of the Path: By the time I’ve finished the lawn, I’m so tired that my feet are dragging as Mway and I head down the path. I bring along the “pro-quality” stick, mainly so I have something to support myself as I’m walking. I stick to the main path, and I don’t really have the energy to look at anything. Honeysuckle branches brush against my cheek; blackberry briars scratch at my shirt. I noticed much more while I was mowing the lawn, and I suppose I could give an account of the State of the Lawn: The grass was not too high, indicating how little rain we’ve had this spring. Plus the Boy had a party this Saturday night, and much of the grass around the benches and picnic table was tramped down. Plus the grass was low and brown where Moi and I had left the pool cover sit for a day or two. This past week I cut a number of lilac branches down, so I wouldn’t have them as obstacles while I’m mowing. So the lawn was not too hard to mow this week. Still there were some obstacles remaining, which I should remedy one of these weeks: the wild cherry on the side lawn has low branches which I have to duck under or plow through while I’m mowing; there’s another wild cherry with low branches by the corn crib, and a white mulberry tree with a low branch behind the pool; the apple tree by the outbuilding also has low branches, and the maple tree by the pool has one low branch that I kept running into.
State of the Creek: As I’m stumbling through the high grass on the path along the creek, I step at one point perilously close to the bank. The sky’s starting to cloud up, and the creek looks dark and foreboding. Past the clutch of honeysuckles and multiflora briars, I hear Mway stepping into the water to cool off.
The Fetch: For a moment I think Mway’s going to fetch the stick more times than I care to count, but she stops short of around five fetches. I play “Put it down” once, and when she brings the stick back, she stands looking at me as if she might want to play it again. But I turn around and start heading down the path along the sumacs, Mway following me with the large stick in her mouth until we come to the fork at the main path, where she has the space to speed up quick and pass me. When we get to the house I put on my swim trunks, hang up my work shirt heavy with sweat on the clothesline to dry, and jump into the pool.