Nights

Sometimes it is when I am the lowest that I appreciate beauty the most. Two nights ago I was in a foul mood for sure (thanks to a situation which has been addressed and clarified, if not entirely rectified), and after campfire I found myself sitting cross-legged on an inner tube by the swim hole (which is, hands down, my favorite place to spend a warm summer evening), watching the water, feeling weepy, and singing prayers into the night. I wasn't dressed for swimming, but I remembered things I had written about this water, and I watched the bats swoop above and the fireflies meander over the stream. I love the grayness of the night, and I was a little shocked to notice that the fireflies constituted the only spots of color I could see--or rather, they and their tiny neon green reflections.
Later that night, after a very necessary conversation and after offers from my friend Dean to do things like drink five gallons of scalding water "to cheer me up," I took Miley for a walk down the driveway--a choice which keeps me away from sleeping children and coworkers, but which also gives the very best available view of the stars and the moon and the horses on the hill. The sky was not as filled with stars as it sometimes is, but there was a fantastic partial moon, which had swollen and turned honey colored as it began to set, and there was a horse standing up on the hillside, perfectly silhouetted against the deep blue sky, which raised his head to look toward us as we passed by.



Yesterday I was not in a dark mood. It was a pretty average day starting out, and then the swim hole just felt amazing. And I spent some time with Melissa. I was helping with swimming stuff for three hours, and then spent all of dinnertime beaming around at my friends, siblings, coworkers and former campers. I get like this especially when the CiTs are here, and especially when I have the chance to step back and take a good look around. It's easier to be appreciative when I don't have a cabin, but a good group of CiTs or junior counselors will get me every time, and we have a really excellent group this year--several of which I've worked with since they were nine years old. It's a great thing to see people grow up, and grow into the people you hoped they could be.
In any case, the CiTs planned the evening program last night, which was water games. It was obviously not perfect, largely because they've never planned a program before, but it was pretty great. When it was over I took advantage of my lack of cabin and helped them rinse the tarps from the slip-and-slide in the swim hole in the deepening dusk, and talked to them about their past as campers and their possible futures as staff, and breathed in the evening before heading to campfire.
After staff meeting and after much debate, several of the staff opted in for a silent slip-and-slide in the field and swim in the stream, and, honestly, I think it was one of the best nights of my life. There's no way to describe sliding around on soapy plastic and whispered scoldings and giggling in dark water and racing down the slide, lying back in soap suds in a line of women and looking up at the stars that will ever in a hundred years do it justice. Kita (Cheetah) and I cleaned off the tarp in near silence in shallow black water under a deep blue cloudy sky, spread it on the grass, and met everyone again in the shower room for ridiculous jokes and toothbrush-mouthwash-facewash-shared-sink antics and uncontrollable hushed laughter, and the (possibly inaccurate, but still happy) realization that this wouldn't have happened anywhere else, with anyone else.

Today has been lovely.

I woke up to the rain.


I knew when I heard it that the rain was falling into my missing car window, but this area was cleaned out and not cushioned, so I didn't really care. Eventually I got up and put a piece of canvas, anchored with a split log, over the hole, but mostly this morning I lay in bed and dozed to the rainfall, guiltless, knowing that I couldn't drive anywhere without soaking the entire interior of my car. It was lovely.

Eventually the rain stopped and my uncle called with a new (to me) window from the junkyard in hand and a directive to make my way immediately to the auto glass guys. Timing was important, as this installation was to take place outside. The rain made it a no-go for a while. Why did my uncle pick up this glass for me? Partly because I didn't have the tools to remove it myself, and partly because he is an angel. So is the guy at the auto glass place, whom I had met before and whom I really like. A lot. I guess he's in his fifties or so (I am awful at guessing ages, truly), and has the kindest face and manner I think I have seen. Not that I haven't met other friendly people, but at S S Auto I actually feel at ease, and that's saying something. Anyway I think he shouldn't really have installed my window because he's a dealer, not an installer, but again: angel. The whole thing took less than an hour, and since the new window has an antenna in it, my radio reception has improved dramatically.

I went home for an hour and sorted Phase 10 cards for my tutoring session at four, then made my way over. Today we played Go Fish with the 1-9 phase 10 cards. My student doesn't have good number recognition at this point, but she can count, so I made a chart on the dry erase board I had brought. I wrote the numbers 1-9, and then underneath drew a corresponding number of dots. When she came upon a number she didn't know, she could find it on the board and count the dots to figure out what it was, or if she knew she wanted a "7" and didn't know what a seven looked like, she could count dots until she came up with seven, and find the corresponding number. Five year olds are pretty distractible, but otherwise it worked well. We also began to make our way through the alphabet, sorting through the Scrabble Slam cards I bought last night and finding A, then B, then C, etc, and then practicing writing them on the dry erase board. Again, she (like any kid her age) has a very short attention span, but otherwise it went well. We worked a little bit on phonics too, using the board and the Scrabble cards, and she sounded out and spelled "sun" (she had been drawing one and it's a simple word, so I went with it), and then she sounded out the word "swamp," which I had written. I think she (mostly) had fun, because at the end she gave me a strand of green Mardi Gras beads, "so we can be best friends."

<3

From thence I finally went to the bank to deposit checks, and on my way home David texted me asking if I wanted to have lunch tomorrow. (Earlier in the week I had asked if he wanted to meet up next week to trade his book--which I've had for months--for the mixed cd his brother John made for me but didn't quite get delivered this weekend. I  said next week because I wasn't sure how this week would go with trying to get my window fixed before leaving for MD.) Clearly that wouldn't be possible, so we had dinner tonight instead at Ellwood Thompson's hot bar. Have I mentioned how much I love this store? I really, really do. I should shop there more. From their hot bar tonight I gathered, among other things, real mashed potatoes, cider braised chicken, collard greens cooked with ham, ratatouille, and cassoulet. Holy crap, is cassoulet delicious. Usually I only get it at Christmas when one of my aunts makes it--or when I eat at the E.T. hot bar. And all of their food is made from real ingredients, by hand, in their store. Much, if not all, of it is organic, and they have a selection of vegan food as well, and a salad bar (which I missed out on tonight because I ran out of plate space before I remembered that it was there), and even some "plant food untouched by fire" for people who go in for that sort of thing.

Cassoulet!

The dinner was nice. The cd is awesome so far.

Somehow I was still hungry after eating this giant plate of food (I feel like this has been happening a lot lately, despite the fact that I haven't been eating much during the day so really my stomach should be smaller), so after we left I attraversato...d* the parking lot to visit the Ellwood Cafe in hopes of finding some iced cream.** Luckily I was stymied, and instead found a large cup of ambrosia hot chocolate and a warmed pumpkin muffin to go. Thursdays are open mic nights, and when I walked in two men were singing a really great version of "Only Living Boy in New York." It was pretty magical. So were the hot chocolate and pumpkin muffin.

I worked a little after this, the heat gun died, I drove home magically not cold in the cold night air and my cosy blue two-sizes-too-big cashmere sweater with the windows open, listening to my new mixed cd. It was lovely.



Tomorrow: Brunch/lunch with Anna (and people I don't know)! Driving to Maryland! Dinner with Jill (and people I don't know)! I am looking forward to these things. Should be lovely.



























*For some reason I was thinking here of the Eat, Pray, Love moment during which E. Gilbert discusses her favorite Italian word, which is similar to that which I have typed and which means "let's cross over." Don't judge me.

*Which was ridiculous, because it was about 53 degrees and misty outside.