Night Walk

I keep going out for evening walks to wind down and let go of the day, not be present while A does bedtime and tick off the rest of my Fitbit steps for the day. 10,000 is surprisingly hard to hit if you don't go for a hike on long rambling trails in the woods.

The whole neighborhood is quiet and resting after dinnertime. The sky is a glowing sherbet and highlights the silhouettes of palm trees and Victorian houses. There are sometimes people quietly giving the lawn one last drink or solitary dog walkers but most of the walk is a stroll through abandoned streets. All the homes are luminaries with little scenes or television viewers, armchair readers and lemon light through lace curtains. The cherry plums have dropped their sweet fruits all over the sidewalks in some places and they polka-dot the cement with splat marks and pits. The smell of jasmine swirls past me sometimes, and the heavy sweet of datura putting out their evening burst of smell.

The magnolias leaves shine in the streetlights as I walk second half of the walk, towards home. I walk luxuriantly slow crossing streets because there are no cars in any direction, you can see down and down and down the street, intersections melting into themselves at the vanishing point. It could be a fantastic stage for an impromptu dance performance, all those streetlights and the big open stage with the yellow lines shining down the center. When I come home I always remember that I've forgotten my keys and my very logical husband has locked the front door so I have to call to him quietly through the screen of the office window to be let back into my little luminary. Everything feels softer and warmer back home again, all the little things that make up our cozy life: the turquoise tea kettle, our shelves of books, the confetti of Lego on the floor. The boys aren't asleep but they're in their beds and the light is out, and that's good enough for us. Time to return to my mate and my nest and my lists and remind myself to make the bed up tomorrow as I quietly wash up the supper dishes.

Quiet Night, Homey Night

Spending a quiet night cruising around on the internets a bit....kids all exhausted from baseball, marathon Lego creating and endless summer light...its just Elizabeth Mitchell and I in the house tonight. There are lullabies in the other room that I can't quite hear and a steady computer buzz in here....and giant stack of paper teetering on the desk next to me. Tomorrow is the day I sort every piece of paper we own and cull it all down into neatly arranged file boxes (or maybe even one!) and turn the office into a haven of neatness and order.

Today was the day that I painted more trim, washed more laundry and managed to actually re-hang the mirror by the front door....every little bit helps. So much to do around here. I am thinking maybe I'll throw one more load of laundry in before I head to sleep. I love the amazing modern magic of having in-house appliances that do chores for you while you are away. Brilliant. I've just started experimenting with the delayed cook settings on my oven. Its really kind of fabulous to stick a roast in there, add seasonings and set it to turn on an appropriate amount of time before you roll into the driveway from kid events with a bunch of whiney littles who are all starving. God bless the dude who invented that idea.

The garden has had a lot of rain and I am woefully behind on trimming, weeding, edging and mowing. I have to get the mower up and running tomorrow and get the lawn in decent shape. I think the pansies in the front planters have finally run the race too. Time to swap them out for some lobelia and marigolds or some other heat lover. They did their best...and now its on to the sweltering set.

The rabbits in the backyard have raised one baby and appear to have hatched the next one. The previous "baby" likes to munch clover in the backyard by the kids sandbox while we are out and then bolt in a panic when we all pull in the driveway. The newer, tinier fluffball of a kit is spending its time hiding out under the giant, lush hostas at the front of the house and runs in a manic dash whenever I do scary things like walk past on my way to turn on the hose. Love seeing them grow up in our yard and also love that the tax they take from our garden is tiny. They sometimes eat the leaves off of our bean plants but mostly they seem to prefer the clover in the lawn. (Yay for lawns that are more than just grass!!!!) I love this about city gardening. No deer. No woodchucks. No chipmunks. No moles. Just a couple of rabbits with a refined palette.

We have come into the weather where a quick run down to the beach after dinner sounds super good. Last night was our last night with A before he flew out this morning and we took a picnic of fridge leftovers, two towels to share and one boogie board and just ran out to the beach in time to take  short dip, eat dinner on the rocks of the point and watch the fishermen haul in sea robins. Then we poked around in the shore debris and collected shells to carry back to the car with us as we hiked up the beach path in the glow of fireflies. It was a great last night together. I hope the sunsets in California make him think of us, we're thinking of him over here. In my empty house tonight I'm thinking of little notes that we can send, ways to stay in touch and things to remember to tell him about tomorrow when we're chirping texts back and forth and having our Good Morning Talk over coffee and sausages. Lots of love, lots of connection, lots of dedicated energy. May you have the same!