There is a wild wind blowing in Delaware today. I watch the leaves go scuttling across the lawn and wonder if there will be any left for the paint brush of Autumn. A limb came out of our willow tree and landed across the driveway. Certain Man, home for lunch, said he would move it before he left. I love days like today. People look at me strange when I say that I love rainy days and Mondays, but I really, really do. And when it is windy and rainy, I love to stand outside my garage and smell the rain and watch the wind toss the branches of our tall hybrid willow tree like a big washing machine. It makes me laugh — something inside is so unencumbered and full of joy and awe.
Outside the family room window, a strong young man is building a deck out from the door of our sun room. He hangs his parka on one of the square posts and it blows straight out, the sleeves full of air, then crashes down against to post, only to be caught again and tossed up in a playful, dancing motion. The wind seems to invigorate him. Sometimes I hear him sing small snatches of song. Yesterday, he worked in the rain, and I felt sorry for him. It was miserable and he dug big holes with only his shovel and post hole digger, chopping through the roots that infest that area from Certain Man’s many trees. He worked hard, and by evening, even with the promise of heavy rain today, he smiled at what he had accomplished and went home to his wife and new baby with a spring in his step.
I am glad that Certain Man decided that he would put a deck in this area. I had only asked for front steps so that I would have easier access to the front yard, but Certain Man, always the one to see ahead, said that we should put a deck there. I look out at the progress that is being made and think again that it is wonderful that God gave one of us the ability to see things how they will be. I only begin to visualize things once they actually have shape and substance. Oh, and some defining color. Let’s not forget color. After living with Certain Man all these years, the color of rough lumber is one of the most exciting colors there is.
The rain was supposed to come during the night. Then at six this morning. Then it was to be sometime this morning. Now it is almost three o’clock in the afternoon, and there is finally some raindrops on the windows. I said to Certain Man that I was going to put this away and do something profitable. It is Visitors Weekend at Youngest Daughter’s Training Center and we want to leave tomorrow for Ohio. I have lots of things to do before we go, but somehow, my chair, a cheery lamp or two and the wind whistling so noisily along with some raindrops spattering now and then, call my name with an urgency that is beguiling. The house itself is quiet. Middle Daughter got called into work early, Certain Man is long gone from lunch, Nettie and Cecilia aren’t home yet, and now even Davey has capitulated to the increasing rain and packed up his tools and left.
The overcast light outside reminds me that time is moving on, and that this plodder had better get to plodding if she is going to be ready to go. Maybe an afternoon cup of coffee and my current favorite classical CD will get me moving.
I think I’ll at least give it a good try.
As my Sweet Mama would sometimes say, “There’s no time like the present to start!”
(I’m going, I’m going!)