Morning Adventure

I can’t tell you how happy I am to see that ugly, hot humid weather disappear. I might be wrong, but I really can’t remember many decent days this past spring and summer. These past few days have been glorious. Unfortunately with the change come signs that fall and then that “bad” season, winter, is right around the corner. When I finally decided that I should rise from this chair and venture into the great outdoors I discovered other signs of the changing season. My tomatoes are not turning red, the butternut vines are shriveling and the hanging plants are hanging on for dear life. Decide that it was time to clear out some of that dying summer growth. I filled up a large barrel and headed for my disposal area which is up a slight hill then over a small stone wall and into an abandoned orchard. It seems like yesterday when I would be able run up the hill, jump the wall and quickly finish the task. Today was so, so different. Dragged (slowly) the barrel up the hill. Didn’t dare try to carry it over the wall for fear of falling on my you know what. Reached over and deposited the barrel while I gingerly went over the shortest group of stones I was able to avoid most of the tree branches on the journey and made it a little way into the woods. Dumped most of the debris, but lost hold of the barrel which now slid down a little slope. Made my way down, almost losing my balance, but was kept from falling by a bush of thorns which proceeded to make some blood flow and add to my many senior citizen scars. Finally retrieved the barrel and made my way huffing and puffing down the hill. Small job like this and I had to go back to my chair in front of this machine and get my breath back. When dear friends, did I get so damn old and out of shape? There are a lot of other things on the “get the area in shape for winter” list, but I decided that since I escaped this morning’s escapade virtually unscathed I would take the rest of the day off. Visualizing the rest of the chores and weighing it against a vision of a glass of nice Italian Red wine, a piece of Kerry Gold cheese, my Kindle and a recliner, the latter vision one out. And you know what? I don’t feel guilty at all. After seventy seven years of hard work, trials and tribulations I decided that I’ve earned these precious moments of relaxation, especially the wonderful glow achieved after a glass of 16% alcohol “Vino Rustico” (my absolute favorite jug wine). You’ve got to try it. By the way, speaking of old, Marge and I had the pleasure of attending our 60th class of 1952 New Britain Senior High School reunion. Eighty were able to attend which is a pretty good number after all these years.