Fragments From Floyd

I think this image is fitting for the day. Our front porch: about as far away from the computer and class preparation as I get these days. In the days ahead, you can expect a little series of "from the mailbox" images, not unlike what you've seen here before. I confess (and it will be no surprise to you): I never tire of the nuances of light, never the same, on the same maple trees, the same portrait-weary barn, the glimmerings off the creek, the valley fog.

Fall is about done, right around the house. The five maples, planted by wise folk some while back for their shade and cooling, stagger when they turn, when they drop their leaves. But the first to fall has fallen, its branches empty now against the west sky. The climbing tree off the front porch will be dropping its yellow-gold leaves soon, and when it does, so close to the house, I'll be hoping for north wind. From the south, they'll swirl and drop over the metal roof, slide down and pile up in the gutters--about three feet higher than my aluminum ladder will reach or I'm prepared to climb.

I'll be scurrying home right after class today. The chimney sweep is coming at 1:00 (I'd hoped he'd delay a month until all the maple leaves had fallen and see if, for a bit extra, he'd clean out my gutters. He works every day at heights above my tolerance and has ladders twice the length of mine.) Also today, our neighbor with the dump truck and backhoe will be bring a couple loads of rock to rebuild the crossing by the barn that Jeanne carried seaward last week. I have wood cut down the valley, but can't get it to the house til we rebuild the ford across the creek. I guess I can trust the fellas to know I don't want to damn the creek, just build back the bank a bit. I lay awake worrying about that last night. I'm getting good at wee-hour conflict resolution. This used to be solely the wife's domain.

We're having the first fire in the woodstove this morning. We were told to expect frost "in the colder valleys" (and that certainly includes us) so I built the fire last night, getting ready, because Herself will be home today and she's always "chilly". Turns out, it didn't get below 40, but I fired it up anyway, just to hear it tick and pop. With the first fire of the season, the stove-black I put on the stove to protect it through the moist summer burns off, giving the air a paint-smell; it burns my eyes. Better done now, when we can open windows and let the fumes out with some of the heated air.

Well, there's my break. I almost have test two ready to go. Time to make out the answer template, answer sheets and this week's labs. Treading water, I am; bobbing, gulping water. Dog-paddling on hump day. And just this minute, the backhoe pulled up in front of a truckful of granite rock. I gotta go.