it's sunday night with a cold wet rain falling. it's the night we put our garbage out. i can hear the scrape of the neighbor's plastic bins along the street. tom and i remind each other that it needs to be done. but neither of us wants to do the job. it's been a windy day, with bright sun and periodically the wind blew in rain. i hung white towels and linens on the line and they came in smelling of winter. and, although it's hard for me to admit openly, the scents of winter in my laundry are my favorite. they are fresh and distinct. i wrapped in my still damp towel after my late afternoon bath and kept my face in it, filling up with it's scent.there was football on tv while i ironed strips of fabric for quilts. and a fire in the fireplace. and we just returned from a neighborly gathering across the street. a potluck to which we contributed nothing but a bottle of wine. homemade perogies, baked beans, slow cooked bison, roasted root vegetables, apple/rhubarb crisp and apple cranberry cake. the children played upstairs in the loft under the eaves. some of us collected around the table, while others found softer seats. and we talked about our weekends and the upcoming week. recent happenings in the neighborhood. new phones. work.
a lovely day.

sometimes my blog is just a note to tell the world that i made it to the studio. that my laundry is hanging on the line in the sun. that my dishes are put away. and that a load of whites is washing in scalding hot water, while i lay out squares for a green baby quilt.

the light is different now. it tilts from a new angle. the air is cool when it brushes your skin. and the scents cling thickly to my laundry. yesterday the towels and tablecloths and t-shirts and nightshirts hung on the line all day. i sewed in the studio. tom bought groceries and made ribs. we walked edgar after dark through the boats bobbing in the harbor and along the tall 180 year old stone wall of the prison. and when we came home i slipped into my nightshirt that had danced with the tablecloths and towels all day. and i was drenched in the scents of september.

my bed smells of leaves and twigs and the lake. the herbs from my front garden and the heady flavor of grass. the detergent tom bought has a sharp scent that smells of the towels when i was a child visiting my grandmother. the combination of the sharp soapy scent and the hard water and the damp basement laundry under the kitchen. it is a scent that lingers and is part of an extended memory of childhood. tonight my pillow holds mostly the outdoor scents from hanging in the sun and billowing in the lake scented wind for most of the afternoon. but my crisp white cotton shirt i sleep in has the smell of my grandmother's towels still. the shirt with the tiny holes where the seams meet. like stress fractures.
stella is sitting on the roof below our bedroom window. crying to come in. it's time for us to sleep.

tom is on the porch playing guitar and singing ryan adams songs. i'm wandering barefoot through the yard taking photos. it's a beautiful morning. this afternoon we'll have dinner with my sweet daddy. and bring some wood home for projects i've been planning. but right now in this moment, the morning is supremely still and lovely.

the light yesterday was so very lovely. it was warm and bounced through the trees, picking up the glowy new green of the just opening leaves. i had laundry on the line all day...5 loads dried before 4 in the afternoon. it was just that sort of sunny breezy perfect day. i often judge summer days by their laundry drying potential. i spent an hour in the front garden pulling up dead growth from last year. surrounded by the lime balm that always seems to grow quite out of control, making the air and my hands and the compost bag smell better than a bakery. crabby watched me from her spot curled up in the clay chiminea we used for our wedding and is now at home in the front garden. and the eave of the front porch has once again been claimed by a nesting robin. at one point after i'd been barefoot in the grass with my camera for an hour following stella and edgar and floyd around the garden, talking to passing neighbors and breathing in the perfection of it all, i came in to tell tom this was my favorite day of the year so far. i think i'll head out now with edgar and my camera to get started on this new day. it looks like another beauty.

i want the green to race it's way towards me. i want the scent of spring. i want the fresh spicy smell of wet earth and fresh green light. i want my heart to race with it's sharp dream of summer. i want the blur of it. i want the slam of screen doors. i want the tickle of cut grass in my throat. i want the jungle of my front garden, spicy with lavender. i want open windows and leaves shivering on the trees. i want the scent of the lake drifting through the yard mixing with barbecue and sunscreen. i want the sound of my husband's guitar drifting from the porch. i want the squeak of the porchswing and the squeal of children. i want to wander without shoes for weeks. i want the snap of sheets on the line and the smell of sun cooked into cotton. and mostly i want the heat of the sun and the cool of the lake as i sift through pebbles at our little piece of beach bringing home buckets of the smooth and mysterious beach glass.

you probably know how much i love my laundry to dry on the line in the sun and the wind. and today may have been the last day this year. i washed our sheets and the duvet cover and forgot they were in the washer. i was at the studio sewing away, when i realized i had clothes to go on the line. i thought it may be too late in the day, but i pinned them up anyway. the sun was strong and the wind was bright and they dried quickly. i always have to press my face into everything as i'm taking it off the line....the crisp cotton and the scent of wind from the lake is unbearably lovely. i hope we get a few more days this year for laundry to dance on my clothesline, but if this is the last one, it was gorgeous.