Cumulus

This evening I realized how long it’s been since I’ve looked at the sky, just looked and watched. I have had something closer to the ground to keep my eyes on for the past few years so I’ve missed seeing

the autumn clouds, grey and heavy, scudding over

the denuded trees

the seed fronds of autumnal grass

the TV aerial on the neighbor’s rooftop

the papery, rattling stalks of sunflower seedheads

scudding above

the birds, tiny and black, winging their way across the sky

fighting the winds that send the clouds

scudding

I KNEW I was missing something

…my own personal beauty team!

And? Photoshop. Gotta get me some Photoshop.

Poetry in Motion

Paper-thin, tripartite, the small blossoms of the dried hydrangea bloom

 

Jade green, translucent, like a whisper of summer

 

under the trees, in the shade, out behind your grandmother’s kitchen door

 

with smells of earth and loam and fresh-made bread wafting on the breeze

 

 

becomes a mere mulchy mess

 

under the chubby hands of a very inquisitive two-year old.

Melancholia

I’m feeling melancholy this evening because

 

it was a beautiful fall day with a blue autumnal sky and myriad trees that have been painted in artist oil to a perfect blend of warm tones

 

i spent the morning with friends whom i really don’t want to leave behind me

 

we were at a local farm with our kiddies, enjoying the strange bucolic goodness of a working farm surrounded by a major metropolitan area

 

i only discovered this farm through one of the above-mentioned friends about a month ago and am sad that i will have to leave it when my discovery of it is still nascent

 

my poor little son had another rough day, one of many, of every day this past month; he cried when his stick fell in the chicken yard, he (almost) cried when the older boys were playing rough, he cried when the older boys disappeared on him and he didn’t know where they had gone and he couldn’t keep up but wanted to, he cried when he had to walk from the car to the house, he cried when his diaper had to be changed, he cried when…well, you get the picture

 

and while we may have found a potentially good place to live Up North, it will still be a change, with new and unfamiliar shadows and smells and vibes and ways of doing things and i will still need to make a niche for myself and carve out a spot in people’s lives, people who already have friends and who are very busy, despite all their willingness to BE my friend it will still require a period of courtship and emotional jostling before things settle.

 

but it’s ok. it’s not really that bad. i’ll cope and there will be other beautiful fall days, the kind that let you know that as beautiful as it is, it won’t last, it’s ephemeral; though jewel-toned, warm, with honeyed light and clarity, someday it will come to a close

 

and that it’s best to treasure what we do have here and now.

Mrs Fussy Crankypants Tests the Old Adage “You Can Win More Flies with Honey than with Vinegar” even though she is not sure why exactly you would want MORE flies

This weekend The Fussy Crankypants went looking for a new place to live. Keeping in mind the fact that while formerly they have lived in some very small apartments and studio apartments on several continents in the past, they now must consider the needs of 3 cats, one Tiny Tyrant and a hypothetical-sometime-in-the-unforeseen-but-probably-not-too-distant-future Tiny Tyrant II, they have decided to try instead to rent a house instead of an apartment, something hopefully that has at least a little plot of grass, a tree and perhaps not on a main road.

This weekend, with the help of a Very Nice Friend, The Fussys traveled around to various locations in their soon-to-be-new-city looking at potentially soon-to-be-new places to live.

Mrs Fussy Crankypants fell in particular love with one that wasn’t on her list but which she happened to drive by with her Nice Friend.

It is a 30s-style duplex…you know, the kind with the swoop in the arch over the porch?…and has a stone facade on the front, a brown stone facade with a brown window awning and lovely trees dripping fall colors in front and behind.

In short, charming.

And also located just steps away from one of the local parks and the river.

Sublime.

And also, when her Very Nice Friend called to find out, far too much money for The Fussy budget.

And also no pets.

Alas.

Chagrin.

However.

Mrs Fussy Crankypants is nothing if not retiring. She won’t say boo to a ghost if it might require her to put herself forward and if the said boo needed saying over the phone, Mrs FC’s phone-a-phobia will prohibit it outright.

So great, however, is Mrs FC’s ardor for this charming little abode that she not only called the landlord again herself to talk it over, she MANAGED TO CONVINCE (somewhat) HIM that he might be able to trust her cats and that he should think about negotiating on the price.

Mrs Fussy Crankypants is very proud of herself for calling to follow up on the Cute Stone-Facade Cottage. She was very proud when the landlord said he could drop the rent by $40 or so (until she went online and looked up the property at found it listed at the reduced rent price. Then she just said “?”).  Mrs Fussy Crankypants is particularly proud that he could tell Mrs Fussy Crankypants meant it when she said she adored his house and that she was sincere that she would take care of it AS HER VERY OWN.

As things stand, the rent is still too high. Mrs FC actually questions if he will be able to rent it at the fee he is asking since there are many other rentals for less that offer far more space.

But. The Stone Facade!

The Fussys will at least meet with his property manager and view the property and try to knock a few more dollars off the rent. 

Mrs FC has another house in mind that she will also view, one that actually has quite a bit more yard (but no stone facade and no park…BUT, a Korean market within relative walking distance. Sort of. If the Tyrant is willing to sit in the stroller that long) so it may turn out that The Stone Facade is Not Meant to Be.

But Mrs FC will still carry the proud memory of being able to sweet-talk a total stranger into negotiation.

She should be a diplomat.