This entry will have the last 3 writings I did while we were gone. The first one will be Day 18, the second one will be Day 17, and the third one will be Day 16.
There was a frost last night.
The temperature got down to 20 degrees.
It used to be that cold all the time in May,
forty years ago.
Going to Islesford
over Memorial Day Weekend
to open the house for the summer.
It was always an adventure.
The mornings were so cold
no one wanted to get out of bed.
The musty, old wool blankets we had piled
on the night before,
at least five each,
sleeping with our socks on,
and our sweatshirts
over our pyjamas.
In the morning we could see our breath,
we could hear the crackling fire
in the big stone fireplace
in the living room downstairs.
Pancakes are ready! Get up!
Or you will miss out,
butter oozing down the sides,
mixing with the syrup,
warmed in a small saucepan
on the stove.
Day 17. ISLAND PACKING
Three large plastic bins.
One is filled with gray unspun sheep's roving
so I can use it all up
to make dryer balls.
One is filled with frame looms,
and lots of yarns to make small weavings,
knit fingerless mitts and
full-sized mittens, all to sell
in the gift shop, on the dock.
The third is filled with books,
magazines to read,
and smaller boxes filled with
bottles of inks, alcohol markers,
watercolor paints, pens, and pencils,
I have three large, green Cabella plastic trunks
for all my rolls of medium-sized watercolor papers,
my Japanese papers,
my small Yupo papers,
my art boards.
My big papers are bound in cardboard.
I am missing something....
I have a big bag of cat food,
I have a big bag of cat litter,
and the Fancy Feast petites she likes.
I even found the scratchboards she likes.
I ran my list past my husband,
who nodded in agreement,
it was all necessary,
for how long I was to be gone.
Yup, he said, You have planned well.
But, he said, You have forgotten a few things.
I wracked my brain,
rechecked my lists,
peeked in all my boxes,
but I could not find what was missing.
they are important as well.
I did my writing last night from midnight to about one in the morning, until I couldn't keep my eyes open any longer. I was going to post it today, but my husband and I are on a little celebration/much needed two-day vacation. Plus, when I read it over, it wasn't post-worthy to me. I've been trying to edit it, and rearrange parts of it, but this piece is deciding to be stubborn. It doesn't eant to come any better than it is, so I have set it aside for now.
My husband and I are in a beautiful, older hotel about twenty minutes from our house. It's in the town he works in and the hotel hosts tea in the afternoons. He is sleeping right now. His schedule is all messed up as he usually works nights. We are headed downstairs in about half an hour for tea, scones, molasses cookies, and egg salad sandwiches cut into petite squares with their crusts cut off.
Then, we are walking into town to a book store we love and a famous store everyone goes to when they visit our state. We are looking for maps, a good compass, and a better way to identify trees by their bark, not their leaves and flowers.