Where Did The Week Go?

Amy returned to Cleveland yesterday; we had a full week here in Covington. Amy, besides being busy updating the apartment in the other half of my house, which entailed a long list of vendor phone calls and appointments, spent time working with me. She is helping me to organize the boxes of papers stored in my closets in preparation for having them scanned commercially. A whole career’s worth, recording years spent in various agencies and places. I have some vague idea that someday I would do a memoir and want those papers to refresh my memory. But they need to be winnowed out and put in some format, other than papers buried in my closets, in order to be useful. I keep thinking I will get to writing, but events keep getting in the way. Someday...

It felt good to get caught up on housework and paperwork and to enjoy walks in the evening together. One day I had lunch and caught up with a long-time friend. (I almost wrote “old friend” but she would object to that: “I’m not old”, she’d say.) Once, after a particularly busy day, Amy and I dined out in the evening, thanks to my sister, Martha’s, Applebees’ gift cards. Our days were full; we retired early, had no trouble getting to sleep and rose early to greet another busy schedule. The weather was wonderful; we worked outside as often as we could. The deck had a particular draw as the trees in the backyard began to turn color. Twice we saw deer along the back fence. Yup, they cropped the tops off the hostas again. The squirrels have dug holes in the area we re-seeded - a wonderful place to hide their winter stores, they think.

While Amy was finishing up her to-do list, I enjoyed Soup and Bread Lunch at church yesterday. It was fun to see friends and hear their happy greetings. I feel like I have been away such a long time and indeed it has been several months, but trusting that all will go well with the cataract operation on the left eye Thursday, I should be able to return to Covington before the end of October. I’m looking forward to that.

Jon writes from their trek in the Himalayas that the mules ate, or at least chewed up, a pair of his precious merino wool socks. The trekkers had spread their laundry upon a fence to dry. No horses were there then and no one else’s laundry was touched. He decided the merino socks must be tasty to horses.

My mother instinct was to want to send replacements; socks must be such an important article when trekking. But where would I send them? Son Jon, c/o Guide, The Hardest Trek in the World, somewhere on the Jhomolhari trail, Bhutan? Seems unlikely they would reach him by mule train before the trek had ended.

Of course, my mind righted itself, knowing that Jon, worker of detailed preparedness lists, has already accounted for any exigency and I need not worry.  It is a blessing, though, to receive the short notes (160 characters at a time) we receive by satellite hook-up. Recently he was exulting about how wonderful a shower felt in a 4x4x7 ft. canvas tent, after a week on the trail. Hardy souls.

The wind chimes are playing out on the patio and leaves are drifting down. Fall is definitely here. Be seeing you....