Enough Time

While I was taking a break from my hectic day, lying down on a down comforter with the ocean breeze coming in through the cracked window, I heard Walter ruefully say to Donald, There is never enough time. I can’t get everything done.

I feel the opposite while I’m here. I feel like there is enough time. Time seems to stop for me. Maybe I should stop spending the day cooking, napping and kayaking.

Nah.

I did take time while driving yet another truck today (this one was stick shift… I’m going to be unbearable when I get home) to take a picture of the bright red blueberry fields. I went in and bought things for dinner at the local market after a morning of kayaking. I stayed out as long as I could, until my arms ached, going in and out of small inlets, seeing where it might be fun to take the kids for a quick swim next summer. I saw only one baby loon today, after seeing eight yesterday. Or six. It was hard to tell, they kept dropping down in the water.

I love being on the kayak. Push hard upwind as far as you can go, then turn around and float back, like a sailboat. It’s almost a new moon and the tides are rushing in and out much farther than normal, which meant being able to stay out for over two hours without having to worry about dragging the boat up over a bunch of rocks.

I know I’m a slacker. I did, however, clean the oven that hasn’t been cleaned since its instillation in 1960. I boiled water, baking soda and put a piece of tin foil in to clean an old silver-plated pot. Didn’t work- the baking soda was probably from the same time the stove was put in.

I’m also cooking coq au vin for Walter and Donald who did work all day today on the Dome, sealing the windows, preparing for winter. Big salad, country bread and a great cabernet wine- Villa Mt. Eden, chocolately and spicy at once. Hmm. Too smooth for butch heaven. I’ll have to use jelly jars instead of glasses.

In a moment, because I see a Blue Heron standing in a tidal pool and the light is amazing. I’ve yet to buy a telephoto lens, so I’m left to sneaking up and trying to get a shot without the bird moving.

Fat chance.

I feel a little guilty for not working hard. My excuse is that I spend too much of my life moving at high octane speeds, starting most days at 7AM and going until 10PM at night. Between writing, and kids, and food, and cleaning, and errands, and appointments, I don’t have a lot of downtime.

Gotta go, gotta get it done…

I don’t feel that way here. Yes, I know Walter is doing important things- the windows need to be resealed. A seawall needs to be rebuilt. Hoses need to be drained and mesh is needed for the Dome’s chimney so we don’t come in and meet a pissed off squirrel who has been caught indoors.

I have to be honest. I’d look, nod, and hire someone to do it. Or, more likely, know I had to hire someone and think on it for a while. Like two or three years.

I want to hear the water. The Kingfisher’s twirl. Dinner will be done soon enough.

Because I have time enough. At least while I’m here.