Sometime in the last two seasons, I gained a year. Whether it was because the year turned to 2013, or because I started a job, I was certain I was fifty-three years old. I told everyone I was fifty-three, until last week, when I was filling out an insurance form, I realized I have been fifty-two all along. Somehow, I cheated myself of a year, and leaped. So now in a month or so, I will become fifty-three, but where was the glory of my fifty-second year? Had I known I was so young, I might have done something differently. Taken a vacation, learned Italian. Maybe I would have spent more nights up, arms up, catching hold of the exurberance fifty-two holds. As it was, most nights I went to bed early, a milky bev and a book in hand.
Today, I gained several hours. Looking at the clock, I was convinced that like most of my days, it was bound to be past one, and I had forgotten lunch, and I had to catch up on work. But to my immense pleasure, it was ten minutes before eleven, hardly brunch.
To celebrate my fifty-second year (again), I opened up Dorrie Greenspan’s Baking and made her classic brownies. Then I took a walk. I have many more days in my fifty-second year, and why waste any of it?
This morning, I thought I’d add a teaspoon of turmeric to my coffee since I have a cough and cold. It was raining hard and I dashed outside to grab my newspaper which, despite being diligently tied and wrapped in plastic, was still sopping because a dog bit through the package.
I left the paper to dry on the stairs and, balancing an assortment of small bowls and my coffee mug in one hand, I unlocked the door to my studio where I’m fostering a family of kittens and their mom. Lately, they are interested in coming outside, so I did the keep-kitties-away-from-the-door-toe-step, but stumbled on one, and dropped the mug.Unlike my other travel mug, this mug has open vents.
Turmeric is vivid saffron marigold yellow, and so was my coffee.
And now the floor, the rug, the table.
There went my think -I’ll -go -spend -time -with -the -kittens -and -drink- coffee -and -read- the- paper Sunday morning dream.
I used the paper to clean up.
It looks like that other yellow associated with cats.
I am thinking I will call my studio “It’s Only Turmeric.”
There is a fat green frog living in the garden, near the hostas. He kept utterly still as I called a neighbor to see. This corner of the garden must be charmed, for it was here I went eye to eye with a hummingbird. Has he been feasting on mosquitoes? I hope so. He looks so luxurious, so fat.