A Time For All Seasons

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I didn’t consider it an act of indiscretion, but I was busted within two minutes of my horrendous crime. Actually, to describe it as horrendous would be something the General might do. She’s the one that asked the question. It was a question best left unanswered. She wanted to know: “Why did you put the plastic bag off of your cleaning in the bathroom trash?”

 

Maybe I wasn’t functioning on all cylinders. Then again it was early. The only honest answer I could come up with was: “Because I knew you’d not be happy if I left it in the closet floor.” I know, some of you are thinking I’m making this up. Who would have thought? Actually, the way I see it, if that’s the most either of us have to complain about ours is a charmed life. By the way, I left the General’s question unanswered. Sometimes you just can’t argue with city hall.

 

I guess under the category of unfinished business, yesterday we were on a hunt for fall colors. Of course, the hunt for fall colors was second on the list of things the General wanted to do. For starters, she thought it’d be nice if we went to the greater Sealy area to watch our granddaughter run cross-country. After having been gone from home for the past eight days, I needed some down time. No, I didn’t want to do that.

 

I didn’t ask the General, but how do you watch someone run cross-country? The way I see it, unless you run alongside them, you really don’t see much. The General was all about going. I get it – she wants to demonstrate support by being in the cheering squad. So do I, but there have to be some limits. In addition, had we gone to my son’s yesterday we would also have had an opportunity to drive to Houston and watch our youngest grandson play baseball last night. He had a game at 6:00 p.m. and one at 8:00.

 

Okay, so I selfishly opted out. I wasn’t going to do that. For starters it would be close to 11:00 p.m. by the time by the time we got back to Craig’s home. Secondly, isn’t baseball seasonal? Maybe it’s a sign of the times, but global warming is killing us. You can now play baseball year round. In addition to two night baseball games, Jake also had an afternoon football game. William on the other hand, didn’t have anything scheduled for Saturday. From my vantage point, I’d say: “Good for him”. Even God rested one day our of seven.

 

We live within view of the Field of Dreams. In the greater Dripping Springs area and obviously elsewhere, baseball is no longer a summer sport. Kids play baseball year round. At least the lights from the field of dreams perforate the darkness of night on almost a yearly basis. I guess it goes without saying, but I’m not a fan. I’m not registering this as a complaint. Unless you own the land that borders yours, you really don’t have a right to complain. I’ve seen worse; actually heard worse. At one time we had a neighbor that converted his property to a firing range. It sounded like we were living in a war zone. It is really difficult to register positive thoughts concerning everyone in the neighborhood when the tranquility of your environment is forfeited to the sound of gunfire.

 

I’m old school. I know, “No one is surprised”. I’m for restoring the seasons. We had the most wonderful trip to Maine preceding my five days near Boston. I say near Boston because I wasn’t in Boston. Even the folks at the hotel, when asked about attractions in their area said: “There is nothing to do in Andover.”  The only thing that could have improved our trip to Maine would have been the splash of color we anticipated by the changing of leaves. However, one of the things we noticed in Maine is that many people had flowering plants in their yards. I guess when you know your days are numbered with that kind of opportunity, you take full advantage of enjoying outdoor flowers while you can.

 

Okay, so the General returned home from our four-day weekend in Maine ready to decorate for fall. Since we delayed our trip to Craig’s by a day (we are going today), it served me well to say “Yes Ma’am” and follow the General’s lead. Sometimes it is like walking a tight rope. Some of that is by my own doing.

 

While I was away, two of the chairs we had ordered several weeks ago for our living area arrived. Much to my chagrin, they didn’t look good with the Karastan 9×12 rug that I’d moved from the front room or our home to our primary living area. How could that be? The rug has over fifty colors in it and it is timeless. Reportedly, Karastan was birthed in a North Carolina mill during the 1920’s by Marshall Field & Co. who created “an exciting and innovative product – machine-made oriental design rugs of high quality at realistic prices”.

 

Okay, so the General was ready to purchase a new rug. Hold on! We had other options. We only had to move three rugs from three different rooms to make it all work. Moving rugs describes my first night back from New England. It was my idea. I didn’t like the look of the living area either. Long story short, we went back to the more rustic look in the living area with cowhide rugs covering our floors. I figure cowhides were around long before Karastan so the look is even more timeless.

 

Yesterday we went to two different places looking for fall colors. The General was on a roll. She has now changed the look both inside and out. Now if the weather would cooperate, it would feel like fall. Like I said, “Global warming is killing us.” By the way, that is not a political statement.

 

All My Best!

Don

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