buried treasure

I’m not sure if I want to run away or stay completely still. It seems to be one of those days – neither here nor there, a chair in the corner in shadows – a little sunlight on the arms. I feel selfish and despondent and lonely and like crying and why? Today is not much different than yesterday. It’s a typical fall day, the leaves keep piling up on the lawn and I keep looking at them. The squirrels keep digging in the dirt hiding peanuts. It makes me wonder if I can remember where all my treasures are hidden. pat said once they can remember over 100 places where they’ve left things. When i was ripping up the beds a few weeks ago to plant my bulbs for the winter for the spring, I came across a peanut. It didn’t dawn on me at the time that some squirrel had taken the time to hide it there. I threw it over the fence. I hope he found it again or moved on to the next one. I hope he didn’t doubt his memory.

I help coach U-8 co-ed soccer. It’s the last game today. Sometimes the kids make me feel better, sometimes I feel very quiet around them and I feel worse. But it’s fun to run around with them in practice. It makes me feel good at things.

I think after the game I will go to the store, get things for the coming week. We plan to make a lot of soup. And then I think I’ll try to make pumpkin bread, maybe carve my pumpkins on the front porch, hope the damn kids who walk the street at night don’t smash them on the sidewalk. If they step foot on my porch I’ll kill ’em.

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2 Responses to buried treasure

  1. The first time hooligans (now there’s a dated word) smashed our jack o’lantern I think I cried. My son was perhaps 8 and neither of us understood why anyone would be so mean. How does one live in the world with a mind that works like that? I hope your squirrel didn’t question HIS mind when the peanut was not where he left it. I hope your carved pumpkins are safe.

    • rachvb says:

      I like the word “hooligans.” It still applies. They still run around all over the place. We live on a very busy street in a not so nice part of town. There are certainly worse, but there are certainly better. Last night we saw some kid getting arrested outside on the street – thankfully it was pretty dull to watch (we peeked through the upstairs window and tried to listen). We saw a smashed pumpkin a week ago. I’m not sure where it came from, but to come up on someone’s porch and to take happy things off them and throw them on the street is very mean. I guess there is something here called “mischief night” I’ve never heard of it myself, but I didn’t grow up here. It’s the night before Halloween and I can tell you right now I’m brining my pumpkins inside!
      And of the squirrel – no one will ever know. I suppose I could plant a peanut in close proximity to where I found it and see if that makes him feel better. =)

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