Sunday

 What I shouldn’t have done

          I realized this morning that I’d sent a warning shot across my own bow last night. I’d thawed out two pieces of fabulously rich leftover birthday cake for us to enjoy in front of the TV. Good news/bad news: It was just as excellent as the day we’d first cut it. I lay in bed this morning while my stomach considered what I’d done to it; not good when you feel fat in your pajamas. And just as ominously as when it was intoned on Game of Thrones – Winter is coming. Winter, the time of sitting on your keister and comfort meals with all things white: pasta, potatoes, bread.

 

What I should do

          Get outside and tidy up the garden. I’ve left it to go to seed in the hope that the 

black-eyed Susans will spread. Also, I looked out of the window the other day to see a bright yellow finch swaying on the end of one slender flower stalk, busily pecking away at the seed head. This needs to be done, though, because in a week maintenance guys with hoses will be power washing all of our units and we need to clear a path for them to get to the buildings.

 

What I’m not supposed to do (but will anyway)

          Our complex is surrounded by woods, much of it preserve. We’re forbidden to dork around with said woods in any way, even though I know for a fact some residents have cleared away spaces on the edges to plant decorative bushes, or have even cleared away ground cover so they can see more deeply into the forest.

          The previous owner of our unit must have been quite the gardener. Our stretch of woods is ringed with azaleas and rhododendrons, none of which bloom, probably because in the intervening years the trees have grown and brought more shade.

          One of these rhodies has grown to an epic size, perfect for screening my compost pile from prying eyes. In my defense, even though I haul tubs and tubs of weeds and cuttings back there every year, the pile has stayed exactly the same size since everything dried and rotted. If it weren’t full of poison ivy and creepy things, I’d dig underneath for some of that good dirt. My biggest challenge is casually sauntering back there dragging my big blue tub without anyone being the wiser.