she comes for lunch.. she comes with her husband on the train.. just before it reaches the station she calls.. I press the receiver hard against my ear to hear a jumble of train clatter/broken whistling/the phone fading and coming back and in all that her voice is there so polished and fine -so English- Where do we go? her directional skills are wobbly so I stand in the kitchen and put myself in her shoes stepping onto the platform.. tell her to look back from where they've come and go right.. right and I hope that's enough.
it is.. my husband picks them up and brings them home and we lean into each other on the doorstep like late blooming roses.. friends from 18 to 58.. years of sunshine and rain..
asparagus from kooweerup / rocket / ham/ tomatoes / crumbly cheese / cracked pepper / mayonnaise /balsamic vinegar/ multigrain/ whitebread
vino/ beer(cuba59) water/ juice/ tea
strawberries/ kiwifruit/ bananas/
hazelnut wafers
tea in a pot
good talk/family photos/stories
we watch 2 films Dan's made
i take them for a drive to the gravel-edged road over the hill and not far from town where the green silence comes to me..
they get it too..
time to go..
on the way out she notices the garden.. it's been hot this week .. day after day of high 30s.. roses all wilted..
and now in a warm kitchen on a saturday night.. rain pouring on the roof, at the door and all around the garden..I'm on my own inside the wet music.. a train tooting at the end of the street ..I just want to say that she taught me something else today..the art of deadheading geraniums.. meditative she said.. under the eaves and all along the fence the geraniums had flowered and tossed their pink heads in the heat.. I'd wished the colours back but hadn't thought of doing much to look after them.. just expected they'd come back in time. which they do.. but home in Bristol she has to keep the gs in window boxes and told me if I kept cutting them back they'd flower on and on..
so, after they left I went out and stood in the garden ..the rain had come.. couldn't believe how many geraniums there were.. spindly knitting needles with tufts of pink, red and white petals that came off so easily in my hand.. I tossed the broken stalks back into the leaves and stayed outside breaking off those old spent flowers holding the umbrella like a wand in the other hand until it got dark..
it's meditative she said...
it is
3 comments:
Hello! Google search is amazing. I'm so glad I found your blog - love reading the words you weave together.
Hello! While looking for a Devlin clan site with photos of my extended family, I happened on your blog. I read all of the pieces and was mesmerized. Wonderful! I want to write more, too. I have only one polished story, and a couple more in the works. Your word pictures and ways of describing a person's inner self are perfect. And, as an old teacher, I was happy to find no typos!! I look forward to reading more!
Chikusa Chic has taken the advice on board too for the gs.xo
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