Beautiful September

Those are not two words I normally put together. In the past I've associated this month with summer's end, putting my kids back in school, forking out huge amounts of money to said schools, and feeling the chill as fall creeps in.

It was a productive weekend. We need to build a safe solid deck behind our house. We've put it off for a couple of years but it has to be done, whether we can afford it or not. It coud take until next spring to complete, but we have to get started. I coudn't face any more construction for so long...but it's time. I'm ready. Nature co-operated with us.

I feel a little different about September this year.

Maybe I'm changing, maybe becoming more appreciative. It could be relief after an incredibly hot and dry summer. The weather has been absolutely gorgeous for the last week and that could change my attitude. I think it has something to do with me though. I'm using my time better. I'm riding more often and everybody knows that horse time is good for your health. I'm also taking a book outside with me for a read. Even though I haven't been writing much new stuff I feel like what I'm working on has focus. Purpose!!

This time of year is perfect for being outside. It's warm but not so hot that it slows you down to a damp crawl. This feels so symbolic! I could hardly get anything done all summer. This could be my time.

I still worry about my scattered state of mind. Three distinct times this weekend my husband, who speaks fluent Heidi, had to stop me mid-sentence to clarify what and who the heck I was talking about. I forget very important things. I'm still moody and easily agitated to the point of incoherence. On Saturday I had a severe hate on for him for about three hours and realized full on that I had no idea why I was so darn mad at him.

All's well. The weekend ended with our usual "I'm crazy about you" "Oh good, I'm crazy" kind of conversation.

Big ol Jethro spent Saturday putting the beginnings of our new back porch together. Mr Post Hole augered nine big holes for the sonotubes. Jethro spent the rest of the day taking FORTY THREE bags of concrete mix out of the back of the truck and over to the wheelbarrow, where he mixed it all up and poured it into the tubes.

Our back yard looks like a war zone or a different planet and Jethro is kind of sore.

He's a big guy. He's as strong as an ox. He's from good British blood that can work all day, carrying heavy things and stopping only for a beer and a hunk of bread with a slice of cheese on it. The problem is, he's got a body built for work and a brain, ears and heart meant for music. He hasn't got enough muscle tone on that massive trunk of his. Well...he does now.

Work, the normal kind with recording studios and deadlines and computers, has been stressing him badly lately. I'm not saying that it was a good idea for him to be heaving forty three bags of concrete the other day, but it was something different. A man needs to get outside and build something.

That night I braced the heels of my hands against his skin and leaned on him with all my might. I tried to work the kinks and aches out of him. It was a half hour after his shower and he was still sweating. All day, he wiped his sweating forehead on the sleeve of his T shirt. His hair was in a ponytail but still got tangled. As he worked, yellow leaves floated from the trees around our yard, settling around the posts that'll hold up our deck some day, and he said over and over that this was the perfect time of year for this kind of work.

The sky was the most unbelievable blue.