September Song

The lake's September Song - tangledpasta.net
The lake’s September Song – tangledpasta.net

By Mary Anna Violi | @MaryAnnaVioli

This evening, after a long workday, after giving in to the unrelenting clamor of Fellini and Coco Chanel for their evening cat treats, I realized the patio flowers needed watering.  The clock showed 7:05 p.m., and already the sun was setting.  Donning long black comfy pants and my favorite blue Life is Good hoodie, I filled the summer iced tea pitcher with water multiple times as I offered liquid refreshment to the large pots of orange, white, and magenta chrysanthemums.  The vibrant pink Mandeville is still blooming its trumpet-shaped flowers.  It too partook of a pitcher of water.  I pulled weeds that had the audacity to infringe upon the elegant Mandeville’s territory.  By the time I had made multiple trips up and down the steps to refill the pitcher and then pull the weeds, the sky had darkened into the gloaming.

After cleansing my hands of the weed dirt, I turned my attention to my gnawing hunger.  Canvassing the freezer, I decided upon collard greens and spinach.  I nixed the Swiss chard until another meal.  Noting there were small potatoes waiting to grace a dish, I fashioned a repast of a mixture of dark leafy greens, potatoes, onion, garlic, and olive oil with Italian bread on the side.  With the promise of a bit of cheese and fresh red raspberries for dessert, and a glass of vino bianco in hand, I nestled into the old green leather wingback easy chair, embracing the close of a lovely September day.

Ciao for now.

 

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