Autumn is gently clearing its throat this weekend in Roswell. Even last week’s typical summer afternoon thunderstorms loosened the prematurely yellowed leaves of the hardwoods and the pine needle shedding on my patio went from a dozen a day to three dozen. Then a milder thundershower continued the trees’ graceful molting and into a cooler Saturday and Sunday. Perfect weather but I expect summer will not vanish completely for a while.
Have enjoyed almost daily visits during my morning coffee from a humming bird on its way to the adjoining patio’s feeder. We were both startled one morning when it paused in front of my face with needle-like bill pointed straight at me. Didn’t have time to react before it realized its mistake and continued on to the feeder. I thought what a compliment that it mistook me for a flower? Then I went upstairs and peaked over the divider at the feeder. It is a head-sized, plastic, giant, red strawberry. Hmm. Is that what I look like? Not such a compliment after all.
The first week of my grandson’s school ended with a call from him to come please and drive him home from school. I did but didn’t press him as to the specifics of his car trouble since he always appears ill at ease when he has to ask for a favor. His streak of independence makes me look like a clinging vine. My imagination saw everything from a wreck to out of gas but I’m learning to play cool. I was comfortable asking if we needed to get a mechanic or go to a gas station. Nonchalantly of course. He assured me not. I asked his Dad much later what the problem was and was told, dead battery from forgetting to turn headlights off before he went into school. Ah! A Freudian would say it was subconscious and a sign he missed his grandmother? Apparently I’m desperate for some compliment this week. If not for that, he’d have had a perfect week of driving himself.
