Rare Medium — Describe a typical day in your life in a form or in a medium you’ve rarely — if ever – used before. If you’re a photoblogger, write a poem. If you’re a poet, write an open letter. If you’re a travel blogger, write a rant.
I use every form on this site. From bad poetry to music, to videos, photography and all kinds of prose — you’ll find it here on Serendipity. So today, photographs are the medium of choice because as it happens, I have a few special ones clamoring to be seen.
Days typically are mostly errands, writing, reading. Retirement is like that. But all of them start in the kitchen. Every day of the week, in all four seasons … life begins in the kitchen.
I’m forever complaining about my kitchen. It’s old, needs remodeling. Too small. Not enough cabinet space (is there ever?) and pathetic counter space.
But I also love it, especially first thing in the morning when the sun comes streaming in.
This time of year, light beckons: “Come out, come out and play!” And sometimes, we do.
Whatever needs doing, whatever is on the schedule — whether it’s a trip to the grocery store or the doctor, or we’ve planned an excursion to a beauty spot to capture some pictures — it starts here.
A bright shiny Sunday afternoon in June. At long last, it’s okay to take a canoe or a kayak out onto the Blackstone River. It’s been a long time awaiting.
You still aren’t allowed to swim in the river for a number of reasons. In this particular part of the river as it runs through River Bend Farm, the huge number of snapping turtles makes it unwise to even dangle your toes in the water, much less swim.
And the river still is sufficiently polluted to make swallowing the water or getting it in your eyes not such a good idea. But boating is officially, finally okay. You can take your raft, kayak or canoe out on the river.
It’s a fine thing to do on a lovely Sunday in June.
There’s a place in town that sells flowers. Flats of pansies, Vinca, miniature roses, zinnia and other annuals. When I was still planting, before I ran out of room and my spine ran out of flexibility, I bought a lot of stuff there.
It remains a wonderful place to buy flowers. They dead-head everything and never let it dry out. Their plants are always healthy and bug free. Inconveniently — but typical of small businesses in town — they only take cash and checks.
Fortunately (and rarely!) we had enough cash because it turned out, the checkbook was back home and not in my bag as I thought it was. It was good to be back. It’s been more than a year. I needed a flower fix.
They sell hanging pots. Fuchsia is my favorite, but if you want some, you have to get there the same day the fuchsia arrives. Otherwise, it’s sold out. The fuchsia came and went in a single Saturday last month. Before I was ready, it was already too late. So we won’t have them on the deck this year.
Last year I had two magnificent fuchsia plus a scarlet begonia to die for. This year (so far) I have my two hanging pots: a white begonia and a purple and white striped begonia. I’ll probably get one more standing pot and that will be enough.
Whenever I look out through the french doors in the dining room or the dutch door (international doorways?) in the kitchen, I see my flowers. Summertime is short in the valley, but it can be beautiful.