Diary of Another Almost-Perfect Day

A pretty decent day, it was!

Worked on internet pursuits for a bit. Played with cat. Wrote on Facebook. Ate. Puttered around.

Pulled weeds in flower garden, threw balls – basketballs, footballs, misc. random balls, and frisbee into shed. Tried to throw through foot-wide gap in doors — missed most throws. Duh. Picked up branches. Threw in pile behind shed.

Laid out circle of bricks for fire ring. Looked at pile behind shed and wondered how wooden Christmas Santa decoration would burn: red and white? Ho-ho-ho!

Got out lawn mower. Examined lawn mower for loose parts — top plastic cover rattles. Located new machine screw. Put in hole and tightened. Wired front part of piece on, wrapped around spark plug holder. Flimsy. Will do for now. Didn’t help much. Oh, well.

Mowed for a while. Twenty dollar mower knew its way around yard; belonged to former owner. Took back brand new mower to save money and buy this one from garage sale two doors down. Could be a dumb decision. Mower spluttered and missed, threatened to quit. I pushed her as far as she would go, then she died.

Time for repair — probably a tune-up, balance and sharpen blade…hope it doesn’t add up to price of brand new mower!

Pulled weeds and mulched part of flower garden. Need to buy lots more cedar mulch!

Fetched child. Dropped off at Y. Came home. Messed around on computer; fielded phone calls from friends of child. Tired of answering phone; went to Y to get child. Child not there. Called child’s friends’ mom. Child’s friends at Y? No, not there. Checked library. Probably walking home.

Children home.

Lectured children on calling parents.

Another child arrived. They played, outdoors, indoors, upstairs, downstairs. “Dibs on computer,” said Son. “I get first dibs forever. I bought computer with hard-earned money,” said Mom.

(Computer given to Mom, don’t tell Son.)

Cat taken upstairs, put in little nest. Kids downstairs, cat upstairs, wailing. Cat rescued.

Supper ready for son and one friend. Kids running around, rescuing baby bird, digging up worms. Need knife to cut up worm. Take worm to bird, bird allegedly eats some, then sits with mouth open wide. Mother and father bird, do you know where your child is?

Son and friend eat. I eat. Kids play upstairs and in yard. TV blares to no one.

I go back to yard. Pull more weeds, clear thousands of maple squirter helicopters out of garden. Throw down mulch. Sun goes down. Kids at Lincoln School playground; it’s getting dark. I drive to get kids, pull up on cement right into playground.

Return home, kids grab coats, jeans, stuff left here over last two weeks. One boy walks, I drive two home.

On way home, I stop, accelerate, squeal tires, make Son laugh, I laugh, too.

Get to driveway — gravel. I skid tires, spit gravel. We laugh.

Throw handfuls of red mulch on front garden, think of fires in fire ring in summer, people sitting around, laughing, talking, light of fire flashing on shadowed faces, marshmallows toasting. Maybe a song; a joke. Summer. Ahhhh, perfect. Nothing like it. Think about wood behind shed and dream.

Day not over yet — summer not yet begun, more lawns to mow, mulch to throw, flowers to grow, fires to glow, friends to know.

Time to go!