Is this really October?

Almost midway into October and it was 95 degrees today. Something is out of kilter in the universe—well a lot of things are, but that is another subject. Still, it was a lovely pleasant day.

Jordan and I went to Central Market today since I still haven’t got my legs under me altogether. But, man, give me a grocery cart and watch me go. We each had fairly short lists, but I had promised Christian a steak dinner because he took such good care of me when Jordan was out of town, I needed a new two-burner cartridge for my stove, and my car was dead. So I bought filets for them and lamp chops for me.

We had a lovely evening—happy hour on the front porch while Christian grilled. The grill that all told me a few weeks ago had to be junked worked so efficiently, after Lewis Bundock cleaned it, that Christian got all the meat a bit more well done than he liked. So much for throwing out my grill.

We each had our meat, baked potato and salad—plus Jacob ate a whole head of broccoli (but only one bite of meat—my non-carnivore grandson). We had dinner on the deck and lingered over wine. I did as much as I could before they got here, but then Jordan took over, made the salad, plated the dinners—it was great.

I have to admit I’m tired tonight, but I walked around the house a lot without a cane and felt good about it. I think I’m on the road to getting my self-confidence back.

Jacob spent the evening catching geckos—they are our bug-eating friends and I hate to see them captured, but he came in at one point all excited about a really big gecko. Got a pint jar, poked holes in the lid (my good scissors, I’m afraid) and proudly showed it to me. After he left, I saw another big gecko (well, they don’t come too big) on the back screen and said, “I’m glad you escaped, big fellow.” I know, I raised boys. I should be used to this. But I think my sensibilities toward tiny creatures are different than they were thirty-five years ago.

All in all, a good day, and I am so grateful to my local children for all they do for me, and to my distant children for their concern. And guess what? I have a lamb chop left for supper tomorrow.

Where Has Summer Gone?

Is it Indian summer yet? Somehow I can’t shed my summer afternoon sleepiness. The last two days, Jacob went home with buddies, and I came home, fresh from a nap, and promptly went back to bed. Today I slept at least another hour.

Somehow this summer I seem to have forgotten how to do Texas summers. Now that it’s almost over—Labor Day marks the unofficial end for most of us—I’m back in the swing of things. I’ve always, every summer, watered my porch plants first thing. This year, my coleus (I have a shady porch) spoke to me in no uncertain terms about its need for water. Jordan would come by in the late afternoon and stop to water before she came in the house. Finally, about the first of August, I got in the swing of things and watered every morning. Yesterday because of an appt. that required an early departure, I forgot. By evening one coleus in particular looked pitiful—though this morning when I went out to water it had perked up a bit.

Usually in summer, my front porch and the windows in the family room are alive with geckos. This summer, my theme song is “Where have all the geckos gone?” I did finally see on fat little translucent fellow on the window in the family room. When it’s dark and the outdoor lights are on, their little bodies are translucent. Once I had a gecko in my bathroom—every morning when I sat on the commode, he’d come out to visit. I miss him, and I can’t help wondering if the disappearance of geckos is like the threat to bees—due to all those pesticides we use.

Another summer thing I forgot—fruit salads, with all the wonderful summer fruits. I’m not much on watermelon but I love a good, sweet cantaloupe, with halved strawberries, sliced peaches, blueberries, and sliced bananas. Yet, it’s only been the last two or three weeks that I’ve made fruit salads, and I noticed this weekend that the blueberries were sometimes a little tart. I never put raspberries in salads because they’re fragile and tend to get overwhelmed—besides I hide them in the back of the fridge for myself. I don’t buy mango either, as it’s so hard to cut up and the already cut-up fruit in the grocery tends to be under-ripe. But I’ve let the best pf summer foods slip by except for corn on the cob.

In the spring it was usually too wet to be on the deck; then it was too hot. We’ve gotten no use out of it since early spring, and I’m hoping fall will bring deck weather. Jacob suggested tonight he’d like to get rid of the table and chairs so it could be a play deck. Not likely. Weather had also prevented me from putting the top down on my convertible, though that’s no unusual for Texas summers. Lately, I can tell summer is beginning to leave because if I have to go somewhere early, I drive with the top down—it has a lovely, soothing effect.

Will I miss summer? Not the heat, nor the drought that is back upon us. But the fruits and vegetables and the light summer meals? Those long afternoon naps and lazy days in which I still got a lot done? Yes, I’ll miss those.

But the October’s bright blue skies are pretty neat. And I have some fall flowers about to bloom in my front yard.