Here it is “Fall” and all I see around me is springtime. Flowers, buds, bugs, some heat, some rain.
Here are my rosebuds going crazy again.
After a slow summer of sitting around in a snit, the peppers started peppering again.
Here is that same rose-bush.
It feels like spring! So I decided to thaw out some berries and figs the night before so I could start canning again. I cooked up the jams and went to fill the big pot with water for the processing and whaaa? No water?!
Suddenly I paid attention to noises I had been thus far ignoring outside my front door. I looked out and there was a young punk wearing an orange vest, leaning on our fire hydrant (notice how I say our fire hydrant) watching water come gushing out of it. I walked up to him to get his attention and asked what was going on.
“A water main broke down the street. We didn’t have time to let people know but we had to turn off all the water”.
I watched gallons of water running down the street and gushing out of the hydrant.
“Is this water usable?” I asked thinking of how quick that would fill up the pot.
“No, it’s not drinkable” he says. Which, I am sorry, but it makes no sense to me. The water going to the hydrant isn’t drinkable but the water going a few yards away to my house is? If it’s a separate line, than how come our house water had to be shut off? But I didn’t feel like arguing with this kid working for the city. I just asked how long this might take.
“A couple of hours maybe”. Harumph.
So I put everything aside and found another project to keep me busy, mostly housework that did not involve water. Oh darn, can’t do dishes.
Sure enough a few hours later there was a knock on my door. “Waters on!” he yells. Okey-dookey.
I fire up the jams, full the pot and start that fire, set out the jars…and the phone rings. Its hubby.
“Hon, could you come out here and bring…” out here is, by the way, in Long Beach. He was on the boat with some other guys working on stuff and he wanted me to bring them all some lunch and see the boat and wouldn’t that be nice…Grinding my teeth, I turned off all the jams, set everything aside, grabbed some chips and sodas and headed out to Subway, the closest sandwich shop even if it’s not my favorite. But then I was lunched up and ready to roll. A half an hour later I was sitting in the sun on the deck of the boat watching birds and boats and a cloudless sky, all clean after the previous days downpour. Gosh it was beautiful. For the whole 10 minutes I got to sit there it was really lovely. But look at that, it was almost time to pick up Paul from school. By y’all. Off again back to the school. Sheesh it was taking so long. Too long. I was going to be late. I kept waiting for him to borrow a phone and call me. I was about 20 minutes late when it dawned on me maybe they were having basketball practice that was rained out the day before. That would explain why there wasnt a “where are you?” call.
Sure enough, I pull up and he was shooting hoops. reprieve! Not only am I not late, I am early and take a much-needed rest. In a little while my teenage sweatball gets in the car, smelling oh-so ripe, and we scoot home because in 30 minutes he needs to be at the Viet Nam war memorial opening ceremonies. His troop was participating in laying roses when the names of the Garden Grove 41, killed in service during the war, were called. So he showered, dressed oh-so sharp this time and we ran off. The ceremony was nice with bagpipes and a fly by of an old plane roaring over our heads.
Next thing you know we are powering down the road to go to the Oktoberfest at Old World Village. It was free dinner night and some church families were going. Paul and I (I was pressured here) thought we would check it out.
At first it was like a ghost town. We walked around looking at closed shops. It got dark. We were too early. We played “I spy”. Finally someone we knew came and showed us that we were in the wrong place, took us to where all the people had been, listening to oom-pa-pa music and drinking beer. How could I have missed all this? You just go through a secret gate and there were hundreds of people, like stepping through the twilight zone. To make a longer story short (if it’s not too late) we watched some german musicians having lots of fun, paul and his friends that finally showed up all did the chicken dance, I had some apple strudel, thanks to Cathleen, and just when it started to get real fun, I pulled the plug for us and we headed home. That was really enough for one day and Friday was test day for my scout.
Oh, and there was still jam waiting to be canned. And I did can it. Until about 10 at night I was canning it. Fig jam. Strawberry jam and strawberry-fig jam.
It had started out such a quiet day. I even had thought I might get some sewing done. Ha!