Sunday, September 4, 2016.
Watering flowers at the building, I noticed concrete pieces lying on the sidewalk where there had been none before. One of the brick buildings is in the midst of renovation, and although I am definitely no carpenter, I do notice details of construction. Sometimes I am oblivious to much of the world around me, but building details I have learned to look for. The concrete sill of a second story bricked air shaft had cracked. Two pieces from its edges not littered the sidewalk below.
Sunday morning there I was, up on my tallest ladder, on Main Street, while…….wearing my lacy brown Sunday dress. With tennis shoes. Even with the metal rake I could not reach it. I suppose I could have stepped up to the next rung, but I have learned one thing about ladders: If your mind says “Halt”, the please do not tempt fate. Listen.
I placed two orange construction cones on either side of the shaft’s sill on the sidewalk below it. I am now in debate with myself if the extension pole of a branch trimmer or the extension pole of a light bulb changer will work to tap free any bits of the sill which might be loose enough to tumble away from its perch. That’s my early morning’s work.
I walked funny all day. My internal reaction mixed the sense of pride of returning to an activity I had loved, horseback riding, with the sheepishness of acknowledgement at its impact upon my body and soul. I felt like a warrior, goddess, pioneer and …. did I mention ‘goddess’? Yep, from the goddess pioneer the day before to walking funny, the next!
In the cypress carved trunk, slumbering among the china pieces and my grandmother’s chenille ivory bedspread, was a white knitted blanket. I do believe that the only use it has ever seen was the wrapping of my then infant son. It’s beautifully and dutifully hand-knitted, with perfect even loops. It was a wedding gift from a dear friend and coworker twenty years ago.
One would think it would be miserable to look at it now. But, no. I marveled at the realization. One would think I should get rid of it. But no again. I smiled when I saw it as it reminded me not of a marriage, rather it reminded me of my progress toward not retaining anything I do not need. No, this was one of those rare objects which should stay. So I moved the trunk between the living room furniture. It is an intricately carved piece brought to the United States from Japan while my former husband was in the Navy. He knew I loved the piece.
I now have a coffee table! (Yes it is a bit out of place and it stands too tall to be the traditional coffee table. But I think it is divine..)
Happy Labor Day!
#handknitblanketandcypresstrunk #imjustme #thebrickdandelion #stillwalkingfunny