sips of an evening

When spring is at midpoint, when mid-Pentecost arrives on beams of evening, I gaze and linger and meander over recent doings, as merlot swirls in the cute little glass our Russian friend gave us. Should I taste the orange vodka she also prepared last autumn? Just a sip.

I have been juicing. Tim bought a Jack LaLanne Power Juicer at Goodwill. (Did you know Jack LaLanne's wife's first name is Elaine? What a trooper.) My juice is for my kombucha--mostly ginger, but also some lemons and limes. After boiling water in the large pot, I steep six tea bags. I decant eight bottles worth of "booch" while listening to Fr. John Behr talk about St. Athanasius.

Last week, after juicing and booching and before sipping merlot, I walked along the river and found two surprises. Surprising because both the eagle and the bunny posed for me and my camera.


The world of blossoms has opened. Pink petals cover our street as well as Tim's truck, now dubbed Ol' Blue. I have ridden on Blue's bench seat while Tim drove. I've inhaled scents from ages past of dust and foam and oil and adventure, bouncing along the boulevard, deciding I would really like to take a refresher course in manual shifting. So one afternoon I grabbed the truck key, stuffed a couple pillows behind my back at the steering wheel, and fired up Blue (breathing sips of prayers while putting in the clutch). We made it around the neighborhood, Blue and I. Only at a Maxwell Street stop sign did I kill the engine, twice, before remembering I'd stopped in second and needed to begin again in first. We warbled to a standstill atop the pink petals.

I'm hosting a birthday party for my mom. Her 85th. On Memorial Weekend. I'm chatting with relatives, letting Facebook connect us with old friends, breathing thanks for my dear friend Laura who comes when I call her, to clean. Especially our floors, she'll be cleaning. The cat may or may not be party invited, depending on how his 18-year-old digestion is behaving. I can leave him out to bask in sunshine, I hope, if need be. The best part of weather past midpoint in spring is that after nighttime there is much light time for warming out back near the fig tree, in the blossoms, under leaves purely emerald, slightly chlorophyll-intoxicated, newly adventuring.

Comments

gz said…
definitely Fun Stuff
Fresca said…
Wow---amazing how the wildlife posed so beautifully for you!
Cute bunny. (But I did have a sad thought that bunny might be a snack for eagle...)
We see bald eagles here sometimes (rarely) too---the Mississippi River that cuts through town is a migration highway for birds. Once I saw one take off from a branch at the lake---impressive!

You remind me, I should make kombucha again---it's ridiculously cheap to make and expensive to buy. I like ginger too. My SCOBY died (Hm... I guess vegans wouldn't drink kombucha), but I can get another.

Happy birthday to your mom! It's a lot of work, preparing for a party, but I like that it pushes me to do things like get the floors clean. :)
Have fun!
deanna said…
Thanks, gz and Fresca, for sharing my fun. Kombucha makes me happy. The scoby is plant-based, so I drink it even during the months I'm sort of a vegan. (I put old scobies out in the garden.)

I also worried a bit about the rabbit. He or she was quite a way from the river where the eagle was hunting. Actually, I'm pretty sure this was a pet, sitting near a driveway and not afraid of me at all. May the eagle keep away!
Fresca said…
Oh, of course you're right about kombucha being vegan---I was thinking yeast and bacteria were living things, which they are, and are animals, which they're not--I had to look that up to be sure!

I am going to think that bunny hopped back home and is happily there eating carrots!
Dee said…
Dear Deanna, there is a quiet, a serenity to this posting despite the trip around the block and the sputtering of the engine. I still felt embraced by your love for your life and your mother. Please wish her "happy birthday" from me! Peace.
deanna said…
I will, Dee. Thank you!