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HermitShell of Flourish
Aug. 26th, 2019 09:44 pmCutting up peaches is very sexy. Sweet juice drips off your palms. The flesh parts from the stone with a kissing sound. Also they have a delicious golden-pink flavor when they are prepared. As you might guess from all this, my stomach is okay again. I didn't eat anything but a piece of toast until supper time, just to make sure, but I've eaten now and it seems to be fine.
I was congratulating myself on getting out for a walk early this morning. I bounced out the door and--it was raining. Oh fine, I gave up and went and took a shower. Oops, now it's not raining. The Sparrowhawk's app said that it wasn't going to rain for maybe half an hour, so I dashed off and walked while I could. The field of golden flowers is starting to go to seed, and goldfinches fly in and out of the forest of stalks like petals detaching and going airborne. The high bush cranberries are ripening. In the afternoon, we went to the bookstore and I worked there for a couple of hours, and then we browsed the kids' section for baby gifts--one for the Sparrowhawk's great-nephew, who is turning one this weekend, and one for Queenie's step-grandchild. He was a preemie, and has now passed his originally expected birth date and weighs eight pounds. We got each of them baby socks and a book: Curious George socks and I Am A Bunny for one, and Little Prince socks and a waterproof squishy book about bees to play with in the bath for the other.
At the bookstore, someone approached me as I added cream to our coffees. It was the German lady who used to run the canteen at the blood drive and make everyone drink water and have a snack so they wouldn't faint. We used to talk about books and things. She told me that she doesn't volunteer there any more because she "didn't like the way they treat people." I confessed that I hadn't been there this summer because my mother died and the last couple of months have been complicated. She expressed her sympathy and said that her husband has cancer so she has been pretty busy too. I gave her a hug, which she accepted in her stiff but pleased Germanic way. Later I saw her by the magazine rack patting her husband on the back as he made his selections. It's funny how you can come to think of someone as a friend even if you don't know their last name or where they live. I hope I'll see her from time to time at the bookstore.
I was congratulating myself on getting out for a walk early this morning. I bounced out the door and--it was raining. Oh fine, I gave up and went and took a shower. Oops, now it's not raining. The Sparrowhawk's app said that it wasn't going to rain for maybe half an hour, so I dashed off and walked while I could. The field of golden flowers is starting to go to seed, and goldfinches fly in and out of the forest of stalks like petals detaching and going airborne. The high bush cranberries are ripening. In the afternoon, we went to the bookstore and I worked there for a couple of hours, and then we browsed the kids' section for baby gifts--one for the Sparrowhawk's great-nephew, who is turning one this weekend, and one for Queenie's step-grandchild. He was a preemie, and has now passed his originally expected birth date and weighs eight pounds. We got each of them baby socks and a book: Curious George socks and I Am A Bunny for one, and Little Prince socks and a waterproof squishy book about bees to play with in the bath for the other.
At the bookstore, someone approached me as I added cream to our coffees. It was the German lady who used to run the canteen at the blood drive and make everyone drink water and have a snack so they wouldn't faint. We used to talk about books and things. She told me that she doesn't volunteer there any more because she "didn't like the way they treat people." I confessed that I hadn't been there this summer because my mother died and the last couple of months have been complicated. She expressed her sympathy and said that her husband has cancer so she has been pretty busy too. I gave her a hug, which she accepted in her stiff but pleased Germanic way. Later I saw her by the magazine rack patting her husband on the back as he made his selections. It's funny how you can come to think of someone as a friend even if you don't know their last name or where they live. I hope I'll see her from time to time at the bookstore.
