Wednesday, May 21, 2014

It's Wednesday

Yesterday was swell and this will be one of those posts where I just scribble out my day. Scribble scribble.

I currently have a sleeping child strapped to my front. She was yawning a bit and it was a 1.5 minute process to get her to where her head droops onto my chest and her breathing slows down. I know this is the right job for me, right now, as each day I think, "Golly -- they're paying me for this?" The other day I walked her around town (five hours of baby-wearing) till she conked out and then we settled onto the tailgate of Tobbit. I had my coconut water and read as she dreamed away. Life is good.

Ah, but yesterday.

Yesterday was Wednesday, my day "off." Sort of. It's my one day where I attempt to get things done - run all the errands and knock a few things off the to-do list. I don't have many things to get done, but this is my only chance to get them done as I'm working when most things are open all of the other weekdays.

Today my goal was to jump to the post office, return a book to the library, get my brain latched onto All Things Wise and Wonderful by James Herriot (I'm listening to it on CD), find towels at the dump (also known as the "Take It or Leave it" or "Neal's Mall" or "the Mall"), and that was about it.

I gave myself a slow morning, listening to the book and washing down Tobbit with some homemade all-purpose cleaner I whipped up with water, apple cider vinegar, castile soap, essential oils, and just a bit of borax (which I have mixed feelings about -- looking into it). I sorted out all of the things I want to wash this weekend when I go back to Seattle for Folklife. Breakfast was an apple, banana, and spoonful of peanut butter.

I read a bit of the Pacific Northwest Reader and was pretty disappointed that one of the writers they had represent Alaska was someone who worked a season in the tourism industry in Skagway... although I guess that is representative of the experience a lot of folks have in Alaska.

Then it was off to town with a quick stop by Hannah's to see if she was home and wanted to join me.

The dump opens at noon, so that's when I arrived. The same crew was there as least week - J, Z, and J were all there right at the beginning. I searched for towels and found a few along with a small t-shirt (I've got two.. and they smell like sour goats milk or baby spit up) and a vintage REI backpacking pack with an exterior frame.

I then searched town for Hannah.
No Hannah.
I thought I saw a Hannah-car so I flagged it down but an old couple was inside instead.

Lunch was carrots and salsa.
A walk around the village.
Post office.

Then, back home in time to go nanny for two hour for S & R.

My commute to their house is probably one of my favourite commutes I've had (I know I say that each time). I bike down the dirt road I live on and then enter a trail and cycle through the woods, across a field, down another dirt road and I'm there - I never even have to see the main road or any real road at all. No traffic. Just a bunch of trees and some chickens, a saw mill, and guaranteed deer.

S was having a challenging day, but we worked together to have a copacetic time. I strapped little R to my back and we took a packed snack with us for a walk. We were going to go to the beach but walked to Tobbit, instead, to grab a blanket and book for our picnic. We set ourselves up in a small clearing in the trees and were comfortable until we realized that that is where the mosquitos like to be too. We quickly scarfed down graham crackers, raisins, and cheese and went back home for our story.

S was acting pretty sleeping and picked out stories from the little red book of fairy tales that Hannah brought me back from England. He chose Baba Yaga and East of the Sun and West of the Moon. Each time I looked at him, he was sort of glazed over and listening hard. There were no pictures, just words, and he was keyed in. A long time span for a four-year old. His folks came home and we talked for a bit and he dozed off.

S & R have rad parents - the sort of folks I consider it an honour to work with in raising their children. They're the sort of family that built their own home but is redoing the ceiling so it's taller so the dad can juggle inside. Down to earth, level headed, and engaging.

I biked back to Tobbit, tidied up, put on a dress and petticoat, and headed back into town.

In town, the junior high students were putting on a show. It was hilarious.
It was what would happen if you had junior high students write a mystery musical featuring pirates, the Ghostbusters, and Gypsy amulets all set during Mardi Gras and backed with a marimba orchestra.

I'm tempted to describe it more but I know full well that describing a play won't do it justice.

Back home.

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