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So, I decided to indulge.... There's been this fire burning in my gut, ever since the last arctic episode, to take one of those rare days off when there's no more motivation than a warm, sunny day. Yesterday was it. Silly, responsible me... I thought I'd take the opportunity to do something constructive. Getting some of those accumulated little nagging chores done, I thought that the best way to spend the afternoon would be continuing what I'd begun in the woods, Sunday. Another attack with chainsaw/bush trimmer/machete, another attempt to create some order, prior to the arrival of trucks. And a beautiful day it was... just warm enough to take care of business with only light overalls. No bugs. No poison ivy. Quality time with the natural scheme of things. With so much rain, lately, the usually dry creek bed had a lusty trickle of life breathed into it. It had been years since I'd seen this, so temptation got the better of me... and I began to follow the course, upstream. My grandmother had last owned this hillside. Over those years, virtually nothing had changed in these woods... except for the occasional poacher, or someone who had sweet-talked her into farming out some of her most valuable trees. Little did she know, they raped the most valuable, and left everything else that was in the way to rot on the forest floor. And in the stream bed. Naturally, it was rough going... over, under, through tangles of barbed-wire-like thorns. Imperceptably, the terrain rose... blocks of weathered greenstone creating uneven stairsteps up the course. Until I no longer knew exactly where I was. Thinking I'd strayed past the property line, I backtracked until I could find some familiar feature... and discovered that I'd been on my own tract, the entire time. Bonus. A hidden stream... what will become my quiet escape, in the not-too-distant future. I should have stayed there, with the brambles and the snakes. This, and hours of whittling away at debris, kept me busy until close to six. Tired, stinky and covered with wood chips and dirt, I made my way home... to world war three (or should I say "four"). Miss Jane having whipped herself into a frenzy since she didn't know of my whereabouts. You'd think I'd skipped out for a night of honky-tonking, with the shouts and accusations. Somehow, I think her previous three marriages must have been much more entertaining for subject matter. This, the floorshow for the remainder of the evening... if not rankling complaints, utter silence. No attempt to reconcile. Overnight, and into today. Since she finally contacted her estranged brother (who had no idea of the passing of their adoptive parents, or his inheritance), it's been like this. Perhaps she's disappointed that our situation isn't the same as her parents' affluent swinging sixties lifestyle... that I don't give her everything that her dad could. Or take her on three vacations a year. Perhaps I'm losing the will to give a shit. No affection. No cooperation. No Peace. Some day off. |
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