A Free Drink?

One never knows what all will happen in a single day. Walk in rainy back yard before dawn, make breakfast, drive to NWR before sunup toward wind from southeast, greet overseers of McNary NWR, trail talk, pot luck, lunch, margaritas at a retirement home with full tour of independent living in a nearly dependent way, finally circle back to drive home after sundown.
There you have it. Immediately upon rising, I head for a backyard hike. Yesterday I raked leaves off a path around the shop and the Charlie Brown spruce so I had clear ground on which to walk without stumbling knee deep through leaves. That is no easy walk when there is no light but the neighborhood porch lights through my cedar fence. Avoiding ups and downs is difficult enough without wading through wet soggy leaves that seem to have been grown on elephant plants. Honestly the leaves this fall are as big as my widespread palm. And I have a big hand. When they spread across the yard they do not seem formidable but just try to walk over them. I sink more than ankle deep. Hence the need to move them aside. It’s OK, I need the exercise, but more than that I need a clear path so my ankles aren’t scratched or soaked as the case may be. This morning it was the rain, such as Richland precipitation is erroneously called, that falls in my back yard. I did not walk more than five minutes. I got too wet. And I couldn’t see too well in the dark anyway.
I did my time at McNary NWR which included giving a tour around the main learning stations to twenty out of town visitors with full explanation of what occurs at each station. No rain just then. The wind was blowing from the southeast. At McNary that means bringing the undeniable odor from cattle imprisoned in their feces for days on end.
No matter. I did my duty which is a labor of love. The science I can expound upon is delightful. But teaching is also tiring. So I was happy I had an invitation to attend a margarita drink-up at a retirement village. In all fairness I don’t expect something for nothing and so I listened with rapture to the advantages of living in a retirement community. Now a large population of people who look bored with their walkers and gray hair does not impress me. Imagine living with old people! Not at all the type who looked friendly, certainly not happy. But I listened and promised to let the hostess know when I would be within six months of choosing an apartment. That’s when a down payment would be required. Well the drinks were good. I suppose I could have had refills for an hour or two but it seemed a good idea to go home and get comfy in my own chair (which I could take with me to my retirement apartment!). It is a very very elegant place and for $2440 per month why wouldn’t it?
Does it appear that I try really really hard to have new experiences?
Now I will continue to cook for myself. And wash my dishes by hand. And clean the floors. And wash my towels. Such a bother.
Am I ever glad I have a home of my own. Leaves and all.
Naomi Sherer