First frost: bring in the plants. The dining room is now lined with blue planters: sweet peas, bush beans, carrots, lettuce, some sort of squash, radishes. And over near the front door – hot peppers, tiny baby beets, leaves only an inch high, and Japanese eggplant. Already, after only one day I’m attached to this indoor garden and don’t want it to return to the patio when the weather warms up.
Remaining in the patio is a giant flowering basil and Thai basil - way too fragrant to come inside, a scrawny, leafless cherry tomato that remarkably has four green fruits on a skinny stalk, purple cabbage which is purely decorative at this point, a profusion of Italian parsley and gorgeous yellow and red chard. These I’ve covered with the duvet cover my mother got from her French friend Josie, years ago.
Today was the first day of in-home teaching. My adult students and I sat at the diningroom table with clear sunlight illuminating the greenery. I can’t explain now much I love absorbing their touching stories. The prompt was to write about a sibling, based on the poignant poem “Supple Chord” by Naomi Shihab Nye that I’ve been saving since I printed it out on May 26, 2007 (from American Life in Poetry Column 107). I am continually amazed at how willing my students are to pour out their hearts. I feel like a wizard – touching them with a wand. And how open they are to suggestions! I always try to preface by saying, “this is just my opinion . . .” I like when they agree with me, but secretly, I must say, I like it even better when they defend their writing – these who were novices just a few short months ago!
John’s still miserable. His cold, or flu, has made a wreck out of him, poor dear. He hacks and barks like a seal and slumps around the house looking pathetic. I decided before my trip that I was not going to get sick. I took large doses of Vitamin B and stayed away from him.
Now that I’ve been back from L.A.
I loved today’s cold, frosty morning. The dog patiently waited as I put on a parka, scarf, hat, gloves and tucked my ear buds into my ears to keep out the cold and hear what’s going on in the world. At the streets were deserted. Nearly all the deciduous trees are bare. The air was extremely dry. I warmed up as I headed west with the blazing dawn sun on my back.
I wish I could let Walter off his leash, let him run free like he did in Coarsegold. But we’re in a town now, so that won’t happen. This reminds me that there are always restrictions, we are never completely free. I behave like the responsible law-abiding citizen I am, picking up poop, walking my dog on a leash. But there’s a part of me that’s the twenty-one-year old I was, naked at the spillway in Lagunitas . . . ah, maybe someday we’ll have a house with a private yard where I can once again be a nudist!
Mother called me twice today. A little confused, but pretty lucid. This roller coaster of her being sane one day then out of it the next is tiring. I know it will get worse and eventually she’ll die and I’ll have to deal with what most of my friends have already gone through. But for tonight, it’s all about the plants, keeping them safe and warm, and this makes me very happy.
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