a day at the beach, or, rather, pond

Today I spent scads of time at the pond. I don't work on Fridays, which is a prime reason I've been able to stay at my job as long as I have. Because I have it off, Friday is my favorite day of the week. On Thursdays, I love walking around work declaring "Thank God it's Friday" and "Thursday is the new Friday" knowing my real Friday will be scrumptious and free. Like a really good make-up bonus when you buy a tube of lipstick. It's a little insensitive, I suppose, since only the instructors get the day off and I often sing my Thursday/Friday song in the presence of office assistants and staff members. I do it because, to my way of thinking, things even out. They do not have to deal with students stopping them in the hallway and e-mailing them 24/7 to ask them to repeat something they said 25 times during class. Who am I kidding? It's not an even exchange. Nothing's as hot as work free Fridays. Nothing in the world.

Generally my Friday plans include sleeping in, which almost never happens, writing, which happens only sometimes, and paying bills/handling financial matters (well). Once all that's done, it's craft time, best time o' the day. What usually takes place is that, because I don't have to work, I experience an acute feeling of being lost, like it's my first day as a blind person and somebody moved my stuff around. I stumble around in the dark for a few hours, then resolve not to waste the day. Not wasting the day ends up meaning only one thing: making things.

The weather was so gorgeous today that it seemed a crying shame to stay indoors so I took a project over to the pond. I topped myself, really I did. I actually managed to relax and soak up the day. I tend to feel a bit tortured by spare time. Don't get me wrong, I am meant to be a woman of leisure, a lady who lunches, but as this is not my current lot, I feel I am always supposed to be doing one thing or another. I perpetually feel like I'm forgetting to be somewhere, like I'm running late for some Big Life Thing.

Preparing for a stay at the pond is a funny process. I think of going, think of how much I love being there and experiencing the perfection of nature, resolve to go. Then I start packing, which induces the following chain of thoughts:

Nature. That's right. Gotta love nature. Makes me feel so... natural. Let's see -- do I have my camera? Camera. Check. Might be some good nature to photograph. The turtles might be mating or something. The camera is a must have. Now, what if I get a phone call while I'm taking in all this nature? Cell phone? Where the hell is my cell phone? Is it charged? Probably not because I never want people calling me. But I just might need it while I'm out in nature, a full four blocks from home. Found it. One bar. Good enough. Check. Alrighty then. I'm out the door. Ah, the calming sounds of nature. A balm to my soul. That reminds me. Do I have my MP3 player? What in the world do I need it for? The pond's got a waterfall. Very soothing. Why don't I listen to that? No way. The pond don't play Aretha. It don't sound funky like Erykah Badu. Better take that MP3 player. Plus I won't be the only person out in this nature. This is the city, after all. People will be there shouting at their toddlers to stop trying to scoop the turtles out of the pond. Maybe only one or two and only for a couple of minutes, but still. MP3 player. Check.

By the time I get there I'm laden with every creature comfort but a TV set.

In between snapping pictures, talking on my cell and listening to music, I did some stitching.

I'm kidding about all the snapping and talking. I only took a few shots and briefly talked to Bubs. After awhile I did listen to music but it only added to the experience. I hadn't used my MP3 player in a good while. Every song was a pleasant surprise because I hadn't remembered what all I'd put on it. I stitched, listened, watched, daydreamed, enjoyed. And I could still hear the sweet sound of the waterfall.