Frieda Kahlo's palm tree is taller now. That's good news. Last time we were here it had been so neglected, I feared it would be dead by now. And being taller, most of the fronds are above the roof line. They're out of view but rustle more in the wind. It's a nice sound.
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| Molly and Swami on the screen porch. |
And pops isn't dead either. We saw him this morning. He's looking skinny and spry as ever. And, again today, Sonny and his mom are back screaming at each other. He's big with the, "OH MY GOD! OH MY GAAAAWD! SHUT UP . . . knock this shit off!" He's got a cast on his arm. A drunken brawl or slip? Maybe Mom whacked him with a broom.
God, I'm awful.
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Life on Alligator Creek 1
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So, life at least on this little spot on Alligator Creek is same as ever. Comforting. Swami, Molly and I are in the screen porch. Is it "in" or "on"?
2 comments:
So, Pop is ever ready to sweep the water out of his driveway when necessary, and Sonny Boy -- didn't he have a cast on something, a broken something, last trip? -- still with his impulse control problems. God knows where he goes.
I love that porch. It feels like you are just on the edge of the world, where the news takes a little longer to reach you, and the latest fads, if they reach you at all, lose their immediacy and relevance.
At this point, I'm beginning to think Pops will outlive both Mom and Sonny. He doesn't fight. He hasn't put on weight. He comes out now and then and works in the yard, sweeps the water out of the driveway or whatever other little thing might need doing and that's it. No big deals. Sonny and Mom are at each others throats on and off day in and day out.
And yes, the screen porch is definitely a place out of time. One of my most favorite things to do in the whole world is sit on the screen porch in the dark listening to the critters and splashes in Alligator Creek and watching lightning in the distance.
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