August 16, 2010. Monday.
Situation: This morning Moi tells me I shouldn’t have hung my clothes over her clothes in the laundry room. She says that, since it’s tick season, I should put them in the dryer after my walk. Duly noted. I work for a few hours around noon time, and I’ve been waiting till late afternoon to take Mwayla for her walk. She’s been waiting patiently herself in the music room (Moi is out working), but now she’s starting to stir and pace about. 4:49 pm. I’d hoped I might be able to mow the lawn, but it rained a little bit this afternoon, and I think the grass is too wet. I don’t think the temperature’s in the 90’s, but it’s hellish humid.
State of the Path: As I’m trying to feed the chickens, Mway barks at them and tries to corral them together, and I have to yell at her to stop it. I check the lawn grass; it’s perhaps not too wet to mow after all. Out on the path, I feel vegetation heat surrounding me, or perhaps it’s just the sun beating down on me. The moth mullein, though flopped over onto the ground, has a couple new flowers on it. Jewelweed in bug land and along the creek seems newly refreshed. I spot two ripe blackberries on a lone briar – haven’t seen any blackberries lately; these might be the last – and scarf them up. Here and there, still some fleabane, though the plants are also flopped over. More moonish berries on the “chokeberries.” I keep an eye out for, and avoid, tripping over the root or vine I tripped over the other day. Heal-all still flowering, as well as boneset and ironweed. Lots of little butterflies, white, orange, one lavender one. A bumblebee zooms at me as I’m ducking under the honeysuckle while going through the break in the ridge. Near the strawberry patch, I see a grasshopper hop onto a leaf of a “chokeberry” bush and just sit there while I look at it. This is the only grasshopper I see, though. More goldenrod has yellow flowers, and it seems all the rest of them have at least green flowers.
State of the Creek: Mway wades, as she used to do, into the pool below the tree stand, then heads up the creek bed past the multiflora bush. I hear water splashing and rocks clacking; when I peer through the jewelweed I see there’s a little water among the rocks. Further downstream, though, the rock beds are still dry between the pools. A few frogs leaping. Vinyl siding no closer to the water.
The Fetch: I toss the stick, and with each toss, hope that Mway will decide that it’s her last, but she keeps going. Several times between tosses, I have to remove my glove to wipe sweat off my face. We play “Put it down,” and finally Mway makes a move for the path, and I stop saying “Put it down.” Walking through the back yard, I notice some tiny bugs clinging to my shirt. I don’t think they’re ticks, but still I take off my clothes and put them in the drier, even though I want to go right out and try to mow at least some of the lawn (I’m writing this in my underwear). While still in the yard, Mway checks out an abandoned pool float under the maple tree. I believe she mistakes this for her wading pool, for that’s where she heads to next, leaps in, dropping the “pro-quality” stick on the rim.
