September 18, 2003
5:45 PM mixed sky; 72 degrees
Linda works on Thursday evenings so the dogs and I end up fending for
ourselves. Tonight is pancake night, or “hot jumpin’ griddle cakes” as
it’s known around our place. The dogs think they should get more than
their one griddle cake allotment, but I’m still the one with the
spatula! As I rinsed the dishes down at the stream (this is our
backwoods version of running water), I noticed how unseasonably warm
the river is. The leaves are just beginning to turn, but the recent run
of warm days and nights have left the stream feeling more like August.
Still, one cold night will be all it takes to get us right back on
track. I wave my cast iron frying pan in the air to the coming Fall…
Here is a poem about washing the breakfast dishes:
RINSE CYCLE I went to rinse dishes in the stream the water a few degrees cooler since my last visit the autumn leaves fragrant crouched on the ledge I scrub carefully (as not to fall in!) I offer the remnants of breakfast to the stream and the maple syrup and sausage grease part company a miniature oil slick floats on the surface and captures the morning sun in iridescent swirls stacked dishes on the edge of the stream