One Glad Friday
Blue scratching at our bedroom window at five o’clock in the morning
making my bed to piano music on the classical radio station
the uplifting scent of geranium, like roses and oranges
an ear infection (vitamin C, garlic, echinacea!)
a thick braid with a satin, chocolate-colored ribbon
Papa home again from a business trip
breakfast: whole wheat toast, black plum, and raw milk
Littlest Sister reading Then There Were Five by Elizabeth Enright, and reading aloud to me all the funny parts I read myself only yesterday
studying the principles of physiomedicalism
an appointment at the orthodontist’s and the happy news that I’ve been deactivated as a patient
weather cool enough to finally open all the windows
a domestic flurry of dusting, sweeping, vacuuming, and ironing
a fragrant potpourri bubbling merrily on the stove: cinnamon, cloves, black cardamom
birds cackling in the Brazilian cottonwood
singing because of the lovely weather
writing a long letter to a good friend
munching a crisp and sweet Gala apple on the bench outside
Estella the cat rolling luxuriously in a patch of sweethearts and beggar ticks, turning her white belly to the sunshine
lunch: scrambled eggs with homegrown peppers, prepared by Second Brother
cream-colored carnations fringed with cerise, salvaged from a spent bouquet and nestled together in a demitasse cup
helping Biggest Brother with his schoolwork
milky-white almonds
a sad letter from a family friend
the fifth movement of Luigi Boccherini’s “La Musica Notturna Delle Strade Di Madrid,” played at top volume even if all the windows are open
books from the library—more Elizabeth Enright!
the friendly purr of cars as they pass the house
the dry, scratchy sound of leaves scuttling across the driveway
the laughter of neighbor’s children as they attempt to maneuver a four-person bicycle on the sidewalk
reading aloud Bambi’s Children by Felix Salten from a beautiful old book, our grandmother’s name inscribed with a childish hand on the first page
Papa and Mama out for a dinner date
dinner: foraging in the ‘fridge and kitchen cabinets like bohemians—cinnamon toast, for me
the trusty, old movie projector humming busily in the parlor
cotton sheets and feather-down
weekend
Friday, October 8, 2010