Weekending::: {September’s Ending}

Early Saturday morning 
thick, grey fog
reached it’s hands right up into the sky 
it looked like it might rain
as I took myself on a different route
tunes I haven’t enjoyed on pavement in a while
Salt and Pepper, Jane’s Addiction 
lead me far from home with Fall’s 
familiar chilly-burning lungs, stark low tide on the breeze
home, I tried to drink my coffee in the shower,
comb my hair while brushing teeth
and it just didn’t work out that well.
It never does.
Our morning spent on the soccer field, 
two girls with two games at the same time
after stroller’s flat tire, a lost soccer cleat
made pre-nine-in-the-morning a bit tough
we still managed to cheer for goals missed, 
kiss smiles with Gatorade and 
celebrate the loss of one team, the win of the other.
We afternooned with mini-firefighter training,
learned  the thing on the kitchen’s ceiling 
that sings when Mama cooks bacon isn’t actually called 
the false alarm and came up with an escape plan for our home
in worst case scenarios’s preparation.
Last night we went to a party 
Photobucket
up a mountain and far into the woods where the fairies live,
at least that’s how the girls tell it
there was a band on a flatbed
in the darkness with a string of lights
candles hanging from evergreens
keg cups, fire pit
kids playing tag in near-darkness
I just love it when scenes from an old life can mix with this one
safely, happily
and on the drive home
a huge traffic jam:
black cows in the road
and the man I married, the guy from Montana
had me herd the cows with our minivan’s hazards
dark, twisty road
the total middle of nowhere (no cell reception)
cows our girls thought were buffalo, moose or bear
the whole scene was just so funny
to this once-city girl
especially when Luke knew exactly who
the cows belonged to.
Sunday morning’s apple vanilla pancakes
hash browns with too much ketchup
slow cups of coffee around the table
slowed life down to a busy’s weeks pleasurable speed
Now, 
three girls and the hubby 
somewhere in island’s middle
Sponge Bob fishing lures, pink light-up fishing rods
one giant green canoe
now, 
I edit Doe Bay Fest pictures,
trying to write about the summer’s best weekend
still in pajamas, an old college sweatshirt
an apple pie in the wings
alone in a quiet home
thinking of someone I used to know well
loving everything about
this song.  
(there’s this version, too).
xoxo
:::

how was your weekend?
joining Amanda

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