Slept under a canopy in the back yard, all our bedroom suites having been removed from the house for floor refinishing. Not really sweet suites, just a hodgepodge of lent and second-hand furniture, boxes, bags, and suitcases. A few more pajamas than usual needed, but still in my usual bed, under extra blankets–the jungle print my husband’s college girlfriend made him, the wool patchwork his mom made, and the blue cotton sheets. Tired from a stressful morning, pulling a sander the rest of the day, and the bed was so comfortable. Cool sheets, cool air, and lots of blankets, the way I like it. Hot summer air has left as of the end of last week, and now we have clear skies with fresh breeze. It’s dark, though as my eyes adjust I can see all I need to. Nearby two tents, one with daughters and a puppy, one with sons. The cat’s weight suddenly manifests by my knees. She purrs, content to have us back from house sitting next door. Fed and sheltered she was, but no mammal heat to share. She left offerings on the front step twice to try to entice us back–a rat one day, and a bird the next, both freshly killed.
I discover I’ve missed a text from my oldest son, sent last night–“Can I stay at —‘s? He’ll drive me to work.” He knows it’ll probably have been yes, so maybe only one son in the tent. When he, eldest told me he was heading there yesterday eve, he looked sympathetic as I puffed under my dust mask, apologized for not being around much, and said he would spend more time at home after that. Been at a treehouse sleepover marathon with buddies down the road, working at the pool, and he knew I could use his help and that his brother and I missed him.
So instead of loading the drum sander into the car with his help so I switch to laying on polyurethane finish for a day or two (for a break), I head to the garage where my laptop is set up on a card table and write to the soft rhythm of the washer jogging sudsy laundry. Perhaps I can get my neighbor to help with the lifting. But as for myself, I’m lifted.