standing in line at the market i overheard an older woman talking to the people in front of her — a woman of about my same age with a fidgeting young son. the older woman says, “oh, are you impatient? you know, it’s very important to learn patience. it’s a wonderful lesson to learn. it builds character. just imagine how long your mother had to wait for you to come into this world!” a moment later another cashier came and opened a second line. immediately it was filled with shoppers eager to check out. the older woman turned and, without the least hint of irony, screamed, “i’ve been waiting here for AGES AND AGES! i can’t believe you just let all of those people cut in line!” on the way home passed a very genteel bicyclist who tipped his nonexistent hat at me.
asters are blooming along the railroad tracks still. i keep meaning to pluck a bunch. i do love the wild ones. coral mums and giant, lavender, chinese mums still gracing the garden. never was a fan of them growing up, but now can’t get enough of them. i met a little lady who is offloading a great quantity of the things. apparently, she moved in with her mother to care for her during her final years. her mum was a fan of mums. (sorry.) growing and breeding them was something they could enjoy together. but now the woman doesn’t have time to tend them properly. she sold me two for an absurdly cheap price on the condition that i return for a visit soon and take more. i’ll add them to the ones in the garden that i planted last year.
i really miss having a dog. like, a lot. i adore ferdie and he is such a dear little bundle of cat flesh. but he’s not good on a leash. not much of a hiking fan either. excellent snuggler though.
it’s turned chilly. bundled under the duvet and quilt. enjoying some devishly good reading sent to me by a devilishly handsome fella. drinking smoky caravan tea. fervently hoping this gathering storm will deliver some thunder with its rain.