A cool front came in on Saturday. Can you believe it? After days in the dripping 90's we were only 58 degrees this morning. It felt like October. I wanted to pull on a sweatshirt, but didn't. I did wear a cardigan to church.
I also told the kids that summer is not over and please don't pack away your summer clothes. August is upon us and that means plenty more hot.
Nevertheless, the cooler temperatures are a welcome relief. A gift. It drizzled off and on all yesterday. Not enough to add to the pond or to make the stream run, but enough to green up the grass.
Strange thing about grief, when I have a lighter work load I feel the grief so much more strongly. It was great not having to bake on Friday. I filled out forms for school, washed dishes, cooked meals and ran to the DMV to turn in some license plates. After waiting in line for quite a long time I felt a bit disconnected and alone. The car drove to the cemetery and I found myself sitting down in the shade by Philip's grave. A surge of grief washed over me and I wept. A lot.
I didn't even know I was so sad. I told Philip I missed holding his hand. I missed feeling his strong arm tucked around me. I missed our wrap up the week or the end of the day chats late at night. I missed being his loved one.
After a good cry I headed for home and fixed a nice end of visit meal for our guests. It was so nice not having to market over the weekend. It gave me margin to enjoy our company. Kathryn and I shared red wine and chopped veggies. I roasted some chicken wings, teriyaki style with green beans for the non-red meat contingent. I made an improv almost ratatouille, sauteeing some onions from the garden, garlic from the Thomas's garden, tomatoes and peppers from our garden, a couple of runt eggplants out of our garden and thyme. Cooked up pork chops and steaks for the big meat eaters. Thomas boiled up a bunch of potatoes from our garden to make mashed. He wanted to add lots of garlic and onions, but I requested the simple version of butter and cream for the younger set. Sliced cucumbers from the garden and a little salad made with our cherry and golden tomatoes tossed with our goat cheese made for a feast. We lit candles and gave thanks for many things.
Next day, instead of hurrying off the market, I got up early and drank coffee alone and read the Bible. Then milked the cow and sold the remainder of our bee hives to a gal. Was thankful to make some money on a weekend when the mill was down. Some friends worked on electrical stuff. Kathryn and Thomas delivered milk. Then we walked down the field to see Patrick and Max's project.
They had built the most beautiful bridge over the creek. I was so impressed I cried. A few years ago Philip cut down a tree to cross the stream and cut off the rounded side so the kids could easily scamper across. Max and Patrick carried out lumber in the back of the truck and added on to make a very impressive bridge. Maybe someday I will figure out how to put in a photo because it was so lovely. They also began building a hall, A-frame style, up on the ridge.
I don't very often go walking in the woods. It was good to walk in the cool, early afternoon, marveling at the handiwork of those clever boys, sliding around the damp leaves, grabbing onto saplings to keep from falling down the hill, smelling earth and enjoying ferns and moss and bark.
After a late lunch with our dear friends, we said our goodbyes. Teary. Anticipating the next visit. I wearily fell into bed for a nap. Soft rain cushioning the afternoon. What a good weekend for a motor to burn out.