We’re in Chicago this weekend visiting my folks, and the constant intake of pizza, pretzels and Walker Bros. pancakes makes for sluggish blogging indeed. A fresh and tasty post – the joys of noodle kugel – is cooling on the counter for tomorrow, but for a little flashback enjoyment right now, let’s revisit November, 2007.
At this time last year, we were trapped in a tiny apartment, the three of us and one furry, ear-scratching lab, all frustrated and at loose ends waiting for the completion of our new old house. The days were over-priced and under-satisfying, with seemingly no end in sight, and I spent endless hours walking Cleo in the new neighborhood, darting evil laser looks at our builder’s house and kicking pissy piles of leaves his way. As autumn piled up, my inner Robert Frost – who knew? – found a silver lining.
All They Are is Dust in the Wind
originally posted November 7, 2007
It’s the golden hour in Lawrence,
and everywhere I turn
leaves are falling with abandon
in the shades of autumn’s burn.
At our old house, fall was magic
but past a maple foot or two
the swear words flowed like syrup, and the leaf blower always blew.
This year we’re in an apartment
with a bored and grumpy pup
and though we wish our lawn was ready
we’ve no %$#@! leaves to pick up!