It is technically summer, of course, but the season has begun to change. A few trees are showing early flashesk of autumn foliage, mostly because the drought has stressed them, but more trees will follow soon. Mornings and evenings are cool; many of the summer birds have migrated to warmer climes, crickets are singing their end-of-summer songs, and goldenrod is rioting along the roadsides.
We have had a little welcome rain; one spectacular drencher blew in yesterday during a picnic lunch I attended. Dark clouds came suddenly, trees danced and swayed, and then the skies opened up. Oddly, it was delightful. The picnic moved inside, and we dined with dogs rollicking on the floor and conversation flowing.
Something about this time of year makes me want to bring out the brass and copper. It is always tarnished and dull from being stored, but a bit of buffing with Brasso brings it back to life.
The scent of the metal polish transports me back in time to my mother's kitchen. I can see her, in a woolen skirt and pumps, an apron around her waist. My grandmother would be there, too. It was an autumn ritual, fall cleaning and polishing to welcome in the new season. When they were done, the house would smell of beeswax and metal polish, and every room would seem to glow with the lamps reflecting off all the freshly shined furniture and decorations. I loved the way the house felt, and especially how happy my mother was as she surveyed all they had accomplished.
I did a little fall sprucing today. Polished a copper lamp and some candlesticks, bought a few pumpkins, gourds, and chrysanthemums, and felt a little of that long-ago satisfaction seep in.
A couple of years back, we took the coffee and snack bar in the grooming studio down to make room for the kids' play area. We missed it, so we set it back up this weekend. I baked some brownies to put out for our customers. I'm happy to have it back. I'll be interested to see how our guests respond to its return.
A neighbor stopped by unexpectedly today and brought me a huge bag full of ripe peaches. It's an embarrassment of riches.
Another area of richness is my front flowerbed. I didn't have the energy to garden this spring, but thankfully last year's Cosmos helped me out and filled most of the bed with 5-foot-tall plants covered in shades of pink blossoms. A sweet customer brought me a flat of seedlings in May, and I did manage to get them planted. Marigolds and zinnias, all blooming riotously just now. I filled up a little vase with blossoms today, and they delight me.
I've had some complaints about my lack of posts lately. It's not that I have nothing to write about; it's that there are so many big things I just can't find the words for. Here is an example. My sweet friend came to visit from out of state. She did the kindest thing... cleaned Chris's office for me, dealing with things I didn't want to face and didn't know what to do with. She spent days of her vacation solving huge, emotional problems for me. Then she enlisted her husband and tackled our messy garage. How can I find words to express what this sort of kindness means? How it improved my life. It's an impossible task.
There are so many big changes in my life right now. I find focusing on small things helps prevent me from feeling overwhelmed. Shiny candlesticks, riotous flowers, juicy peaches, and surprise downpours.
