I took my eggbeaters/mushrooms/cheese omelet and my bowl of oatmeal out to my old warped pine deck this morning....a Saturday, and although I don't work a 9 to 5 job anymore, I always get a sense of release on Saturday morning. Yeah, it is just like any other day of the week now, but some sort of conditioned response lingers. Oh, God, this is going to be a marvelous day, and I don't want to spend it humped up in front of this computer. Jack and I sat on the deck (he always get half of the omelet and oatmeal) and stared. My cochlear implant picked up a deafening orchestra of birds, and Jack's nose twitched. My two lonely hens stood in the chicken lot and clucked while redbirds stole their cracked corn. My strange cat, Booger, was having some kind of erotic experience on a pile of black walnut firewood, stretching and currying her long hair on the bark. Mr. Redbird was feeding Mrs. Redbird in the maple in the front yard. I can't decide if i should be up and doing, or should I just sit like a poleaxed mule, staring at the Balsam Mountains. I heard yesterday that there is a big celebration afoot down in Sylva. "Greening Up the Mountains," it is called. No, I think I'll be selfish today. Ride the rider mower through the saw briers and plan a garden that I will never plant. This is the kind of day that fills you with good intentions. Maybe I'll burn some brush and make my neighbors nervous or go to Bryson's Feed Store and buy some onion sets. Maybe I'll order an Earth Box.
Last night, I found an onion in the Grit that I want called an Egyptian onion. The onions are on the end of its stalks...not underground. Maybe I'll be the only fellow in Rhodes Cove with Egyptian onions! Well, time to be up and doing.....after I sit on the deck a few moments with Jack and watch the fog rise in the Balsams.