The Silver Lining…

Dan, the woodman, and I had been in contact.  18 months ago he delivered half-a-cord, at the last-minute, for winter.  Now, planning ahead [get that concept in such a new way] and as I am going to buy a wood-burning stove, contacted Dan for a full cord delivery now.  I called and left him a message.  Then he tried to call me.  We played phone tag:  I drove to the City and back and we tried to connect at least 8 times.  It wasn’t until someone else tried to call me, that I realized my phone needed a reboot.  Upon my return to the country, my land-line-phone was dead, so Dan and I were still not confirmed.  Standing in the kitchen,with a guest, I hear a knock on the door.  I thought maybe it was the person, as yet unknown, who was coming about the grass.  ‘Hi’ she said, ‘I’m Michelle and Dan called me and asked me if I knew you and I said I didn’t but I would like to and so he said, would I mind going over to your house to tell you that he will deliver the word order on Sunday if that is alright. You see, Dan and I work together, but I’m living right over there. and…’  She talked non-stop for 45 minutes.  I offered her coffee, tea, wine [it was Friday evening after all and past 5] a chair, but she was content to stand and chat from the corner of the interior doorway.  I took myself up on the chair, didn’t feel I could drink my water, which was in a wine glass because it looked like a huge slug, and I listened.  She explained the lay of the land.  Who lived where and what they did for work.  Who owned the rest of the land that her family didn’t own. Where the state boundaries are.  Who had lived in the house I am in and why there were all these random nails jutting out of the ceiling beams in the kitchen.  How particular the previous-owner-husband had been about the grass, the mowing, the length of the blade and given what it looked like now, he must be turning over in his grave.   How much snow comes in the winter.  How I had a baptism in my move-in with the no electricity.  How the neighbors saw a truck they didn’t recognize pull into my driveway and they were on the telephone debating among themselves who was going to go over and see what it was about [apparently I was not at home and it was night].  She had volunteered, but the truck pulled out before she took action. Who had recently hooked up with whom and how well they were doing, as they were now on vacation in Florida. How the farm down the road sold eggs and honey and had goats and those large creatures.  No, not those, yes, those, alpacas.  That I should stop there for eggs.  [I failed to ask which of the 4 houses on the compound was the door to approach for the sales – I tried later in the week, stopping at what I thought was the most obvious door, but no one answered].  She was the best Friday night entertainment I have had in many a moon.  I suggested to her as I had suggested to another, that come July, I was going to have a Friday evening ‘Women and Wine’ in the back yard. All anyone had to do was to bring a friend from the neighborhood.  She thought it was a good idea.  My list of cohorts grows!