Monday, October 22, 2018

Slip Sliding Away . . . .




. . . She said "A good day ain't got not rain"
She said "A bad day's when I lie in bed 



And I think of things that might have been" 
Slip slidin' away 
Slip slidin' away

You know the nearer your destination 

The more you're slip slidin' away 

--Simon and Garfunkel





The other day my longtime friend Chris Moon and I got together for a visit on the deck at Trinity Restaurant on the shore of Lake Pend Oreille. 

I told her that she would be the official egg-timer manager since she had to pick up her granddaughter from school at 2:30. 

We sat down, and I sat back, totally relaxed as we did some catching up.  I could relax, knowing that Chris probably was maintaining that gnawing vigilance of keeping track of time while we talked. 

Well, we talked and talked and never did hear any egg timers going off to remind her that we must go. 

So, she was a few minutes late when I dropped her off at the school. 

This morning I'm feeling a slight sense of egg timer-itus.

Autumn leaves are falling, and as they do, I feel a sense of urgency to maintain a very strict discipline in keeping ahead of the yard clean-up game. 

Some projects, requiring hours at the computer, are also at my doorstep. 

Unusually beautiful along with more than generous dose of phenomenal weather will wind down in a couple of days. Plus, I'd say the past several months, including the trip to Ireland, have been TOO MUCH FUN.  

I'm spoiled.   

In a few days, we'll have some rain, and we'll cool off from these lovely afternoons in the high 60s. 

In my mind, that means that a lot of good things are ending as we face another long and tough North Idaho winter. It's never easy for people or critters on a farm. 

Right now, it seems that we've once again entered the realm of so much to do, so little time except for the usual long period of blah, blah, blah weather. 

My urgency to stay on top of the yard work is driven by the scene last year on the first weekend in November. 

That weekend, we drove to Whitefish, Mont., in an all-out blizzard and came back to find millions of oak leaves leaning at angles like playing cards on top of several inches of snow.

The 2017 leaf pick-up in our large yard had not ended before we left, and let's just say it was not an easy task after we returned.  Happily, the snow did melt for a while, allowing me to finish the rest of the job.

I sincerely hope Mother Nature will hold off on the early snow dumps this year. 

As I watch an increasing number of leaves flutter in the breeze, leaving naked limbs, I'm thankful for what we've been able to experience but sad to know that it will be a long time before such beauty returns.

Outdoor projects will be completed whenever possible and once again we'll turn inward toward a season of new television watching. 

I'm happy to have the option to record these shows because hibernation season is also upon us and that means a lot of nodding off about ten minutes into each show. 

It's definitely transition time here in North Idaho and not exactly my favorite time of the year.  

Thank goodness for ZAGS basketball which should help us weather the winter weather. 

In the meantime, we still have a couple of nice days ahead, so I'm going to do my very best to appreciate and enjoy these gifts of nature to the fullest.

If I do that, I'll have no regrets and that proverbial egg timer won't be gnawing quite so badly in my mind---as suggested by the song lyrics above.  

Happy Monday.     

  









2 comments:

Anonymous said...

We are heading up that way today for a fall drive. How far up did Rapid Lightning Creek Road did you travel a few days ago? We are thinking of heading up that way in search of the Aspens.

Thanks for your response

Dena

Marianne Love said...

The leaves were starting to fall when we went up there about ten days ago. Still, the views of the mountains are breath-taking. Just stay on the main road. It's about nine miles past the Pack River General Store, and you'll know when you've reached the grove.