The line got tangled up today as I unwound it down the hill. Operator error. When I got close to 12th Street, I saw a neighbor out power-hosing the cracks in the sidewalk. I asked him over the engine’s din if he would have a problem with me running my rope over his wet sidewalk. He said he would–because he planned to powerhose for quite a while longer. He asked me what I was doing but I don’t think he could heard my reply. So I left the rope in a little coiled up pile on the side of the sidewalk.
I can’t make sense of the fact that just yesterday, the rope ended before the alley way. Today it reached longer than the alleyway, and down past the powerhoseman’s house. It reminds me of my experience of Time as something that contracts and stretches like a bungee.
C. stopped by and asked me, “Are you doing okay?” I debated which strand of the tangled thoughts and feelings in my head to share but decided not to. I told her my head was in a bit of a fog but that it’s steadily clearing. She left to go to Ferndale to give a free haircut to a retired priest debilitated by a stroke.
M. stopped to visit with her huge black Lab, Finn. (This dog scares me. I think it’s the boxy face, and the way it jumps on me.) M. just started a new job yesterday, “Getting back to the work force,” after years as a stay at home mom. I told her I couldn’t imagine what that must feel like. (I have been in the workforce my whole adulthood except for a few months spent looking for work.)
A carpet cleaner drove by and asked me if I was using the cars that drove over the knitting to add a bit of “character” to the rope! That’s a first…
E. and Buster walked down the hill with me to check on my progress. This was a departure from E.’s “Dog is my Pilot” policy where Buster picks the route and E. follows obediently. We kept crisscrossing each other trying to keep Buster on E.’s side of the sidewalk since Buster couldn’t make up his mind which side of the path smelled better. E. asked me if I thought the neighbor who offered to build me a hose reel was the sort of guy who completed projects. I said yes, but I was afraid he might be the kind who thinks about doing it, and never does, and that I get really annoyed when people do that…E. said, “The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak, you know. Sometimes it’s best to say thank you very much for your offer, but I’ve got a schedule to keep.” My schedule is currently dictated by the certainty that my hose reel is falling apart. The handle tilts to one side, and comes undone regularly. My shopping list also includes a large hat–I’ve been coming home with stretch marks on my skin where the sun has been.
I happened to catch sight of the glass bird feeder in J.’s yard, lit up as if from within by the morning sun.
May 13, 2014