It’s been a week. I got a cold. Got myself an IUD, got a temporary crown on a broken molar. The crown broke off after I got home, so a few days later I got another one put on. Got my materials for my fall piano class together and met my son’s third grade teacher. Been woken up by the crazy pain of this silly tooth nearly every night now and the cold lingers, juicy. Elihu spills into the car after school yesterday all in tears over the chaotic, energetic maelstrom that is the first week of school. He can hardly understand all the procedures, all the rules, the subtleties of it all. I understand. I don’t try to fix it, I just get in the back seat with him and let him cry, his head in my lap. His tummy’s been off too. Today’s income is gone as my student calls this morning to cancel; she’s heard I’ve been sick. Oh, and I stepped on my glasses and Elihu lost a tooth. It’s been a week.
Today the sun is shining, the air is crisp and I have come home from the store with a gallon of semi-transparent stain in barn red. After hoping to give the new chicken coop a demure coat of dark gray, in hopes of achieving the look of elegantly weathered cedar, I have finally given in to my color blind son’s request that we please paint it barn red instead.
Tomorrow is Saturday, and the weather promises to be just fine for painting.
The Hillhouse 