A steady downpour falls outside my office window this morning and the perfume of damp humus wafts through my window, invigorating my soul. To say that I fancy rain is an understatement; the power of Mother Nature leaves me breathless.
I passed another night of brief sleep and awoke at 6 o’clock (my gratitude to the cat was expressed via a heavy book aimed at her fluffy little head.) The house was serene in the pre-storm gloom and I found myself reveling in the scant scent of ozone.
I ambled down the stairs, pausing only to sigh at fine layer of dust upon the living room furnishings before letting the dogs out the kitchen door. Together, we made our way into the yard.
The dogs love capturing the early morning smells lying upon the breeze. They busied themselves in the grass, noses pressed to wet earth as they inhaled deeply. I browsed my squash plants, harvesting several choice white globes for today’s Project.
It is now an hour to noon and homemade marinara simmers gently upon the stove. The sounds of Better Half knocking about the kitchen reach my ears (his chore for the morning is to clear out space in the refrigerator) and I will wend my way to the kitchen shortly so that we can begin the tedious effort of slicing squash.
We have pounds of patty pan squash. Pounds upon pounds. This morning’s harvest sits in a plastic shopping bag upon the floor. The previous days’ harvests line the counters. We intend to bash together all these veggies into a variation of my eggplant Parmesan recipe. I would expect no less than six tin’s worth by the end of the day. I vow that I should never again plant more than two bushes in a season (we currently have six!)
My email inbox was (satisfyingly) empty this morning, with the exception of several energized quips from a dear friend concerning Michael’s book release in late August. I promptly fired off a succinct note of congratulations to Michael and then sent a standard “yes, darling, I know about the book” retort to my eager friend. “Other Men’s Sons” promises to be TFMM’s best work to date.
I visualize Michael as a kindred spirit in many ways. We share analogous views and I have a high regard for his writing style. Weeks can pass between communications between us (given his busy schedule and my health) yet we can pick up right where we left off. He is a consummate dog fancier (he and his spouse, Brian, have two dazzling labs.) We value a touch of wicked sarcasm and both find amusement at word play. Michael wears many hats in my life. He is the girlfriend with whom I can chat vivaciously with on the phone (a little fun gossip never hurt a soul.) He a mentor in my efforts to explore my talent. He is, at times, the older, much wiser and more refined sister that I never had.
How extraordinary it is that we can meet such remarkable people by chance. Michael and I both frequented a common Christian online chat forum at one time; we share a mutual friend. I consider myself as blessed by the camaraderie that he has brought into my life.