Labor Day

It took me most of the morning to clean up all my project messes around the house, basement and garage. Rats, or something picked up the small bird skull and bill that I had left on the sill in the garage. Unbelievable. When I asked Dad if he had moved the skull, he said no, but he had found a dead chipmunk in the garage. No, he didn’t save the head for me. Well, one less thing to pack.

I cleaned paint brushes and dirt from a couple of pieces of wood I found interesting in shape. I packed up my books, some new and some old. Assembled an assortment of cat toys littered about the living room. Tossed a pile of dirty clothes in the washer. And wondered if I could get it all back into the Jeep.

Before going into town for some Vanilla Coke Zero and Saratoga Water for the trip, I snuck up on Phoenix, sleeping on Mom’s bed and injected her with 150 mil of solution. Pats on the back for the cat and for me. I hope I am so lucky at 4 AM when we launch for the voyage south. First day we hope to cover 825 miles to Bean Station. Yes, fourteen hours.
This afternoon, Dad and I hefted the kayak onto the car and headed to Moreau for a trial float around the lake. The boat appeared tight and sea worthy. We ended up ferrying two kids across the strait on the east shore when their adult companions were hell bent on crossing. I allowed one to paddle with Dad (not very often one gets to paddle a 70 year old boat) while I scoured the shore for driftwood. Found a huge spider. Huge.

This evening, I sat outside on the back steps and husked four ears of corn. Listened to a blue jay squabble in the bush. Heard the crickets chirp under the hedge. And watched a whisper of wind carry the day away to where the sun fell into the spruce, elm and butternut before dipping behind Hagadorn’s Mountain. Summer is over. Pool closed. Back to School.