Surreal

Deep blue cloudless day with a breeze and the leaves continue free falling. Impossibly bright gold surrounds what I laughingly refer to as my yard. Carhartt bibs, start a small fire, and I'm out the door. Eschewing intrusive noise on a day like this, I hand-saw wood, with breaks reading the history of Scioto County. An interesting hour working out the history of the word pone, which may or not be Indian. Postpone (bread later?) the usual Sunday bath until tomorrow, so I can just stay in overalls and work boots, tracking leaves in the house, a bit of mud in my tread. At the Goodwill I picked up a bag of sweatshirts for two dollars. These are disposable shirts, to be worn on walks through briars. I lost a favorite denim shirt last week, to the evil bull-vine (green briar), all of my denim shirts have a provenance, and this one had been bought at a thrift-store in Florida, eight years ago for three dollars; I had the collar turned (a group of older ladies have a sewing co-op, and they still know how to turn collars) for ten dollars, last year, so it was good-to-go for another five years before it became a painting shirt, and then disposable. All to be lost in a single incident, in a five minute period, on a day in October, when I got pissed and over-reacted to a bed of thorns. Downside of the disposable sweatshirt wardrobe is that sweatshirts are moisture magnets. Year-around I have wet clothes draped various places, absolutely can't put damp items into the laundry basket, so mid-winter, when the house is sealed up and I'm drying dirty items, there's a certain funk. I usually fry bacon, which gains me a couple of days before a trip to the laundromat. We all have our systems. The greatest good, for me, that approach to the sublime, almost always occurs when I'm on my knees, splitting kindling. Grain is critical here, and the force of the blow, that slap in the face if you figure incorrectly, or another band-aid on your thumb. I'm always fully in the moment, when I'm wielding a sharp implement, I know my skin is thin, hardly even a barrier, a mere acknowledgment, pretty sure I could do that in my sleep. Whatever is required, I don't do required. I'm a loose candle. There are always those.