Road Trip

I've got to get out more and that's all there is to it.  This thought came to me when I realized I hadn't even gone out as far as the big road in almost two weeks, not even to pick up the mail.  (Didn't have enough trash to bother on Monday.)  I get busy with one thing or another or, more importantly, doing nothing, and before I know it the day is gone.  A trip to town blows at least three hours, three hours I'd rather spend doing anything else.  Bess was up for a little road trip, so I had the truck serviced and packed a lunch (No, just kidding!) and we drove down yesterday to clean out the mailbox and make the mail-lady happy.  Ninety percent of the mail was political flyers, grocery store ads, and other waste of trees and my time.  There were a few nuggets amongst the paper rubble, including a note from Tinka and a refund check!, so that made the trip worthwhile.

Unless it's raining (rain being a far-distant memory this summer), my day isn't complete without some time spent sitting on the bench at the end of the deck.  We wait until the bench is in shade, and then Bess lies with her head on the lowest rail and I just sit and we look and listen.  The Mafia Boys drifted through yesterday, missing one of their number.  There had been seven, now there are six.  Did one of them find a girlfriend or another reason to leave the gang?  There are faint indicators that fall is coming, the barest change in color on the oak leaves, and there are a lot more leaves on the deck.  Woodpeckers flash their red heads as they ratatatat on posts and branches.  Bluejays, for the most part, seem to have moved on.  The winery below is stockpiling huge bins as Robert prepares for the grape harvest.  It won't be long until the grind of augers is heard as the growers crush the season's bounty.  We see Fritz, Luis, and the man across the road come home from work and it's bittersweet, remembering hearing Steve's truck coming up the drive.  After all this time, I still have to spell the word "daddy," or Bessie runs to the front door to wait.  Sundown approaches and we go back in the house before putting the kids to bed, break time over.

A real road trip to town is in my future.  I'll be going in on Sunday to see one of those "friends I haven't met yet."  Kathy V. is bringing her granddaughters and goats to a "fuzzy goat show" in Placerville and I'm looking forward to that event.  Kathy V. (that's how I think of her, including the V) and I have frequent internet communication but never in person.  She falls into that "six degrees of separation" theory that never fails to amaze.

In the meantime, I'm perfectly happy to stay home.