Unnatural

Yesterday started out with the cleaning.

The kitchen. Bathrooms.

The couple arrived at 3.

The couple I barely knew, friends of husband, that came to go birding in the woods out back.

First, there was the half-hour analysis of the big crystalized cracked rock on the screen porch – the one I bought in Manhattan, the one I bought just because it was pretty, I have no clue what kind of rock it is and really do not care all that much.

Another half-hour discussing the basil plants on the back deck.

The three of them pack off to the woods. [You didn’t think I’d be joining them did you?]

I mumble to myself out loud “it takes them a half hour to leave the deck what are they gonna do with the whole woods?”

The house clean and empty and all mine, I blast the new Clay CD over the new 5 foot high mother-speakers, pour myself a Sambucca, kick back.

I have nothing in common with these perfectly nice people. [OK, very late I found out she is a writer, that is something.]

They left after midnight.

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