Sonnet of a Monday Afternoon

An Essay By Aisling // 10/27/2006

I wake up late. 10:24ish. I knew I needed the sleep. And my sister’s not feeling well. And we didn’t feel like setting the alarm. Fun.

I lay (trying to be awake) and go through my To Do list aloud. It’s going to be one of those days…

Take out my winter clothes and put away the summer ones (sniff)
Get started on the life-size “stained-glass” window of St. Brighid, for Brianna’s Confirmation on Saturday (yikes!)
Do some hard-core studying for the ACT, seeing as it’s on the 28th already (aaahh! panic…)
Figure out something for apricotpie (hmm…)
Practice Irish music—for a good long time (*nods*)

So many things I have to do today.
I smile. Somewhere inside I feel the grace.

I jump out of bed, alive and daring.

A skirt over my pants. My hair all caught up at the back of my head. And making oatmeal from scratch to Kutless’ CD Sea of Faces. (These guys are talented. But they need to tone the volume down. And lose the body piercings.)
The oatmeal is thick. But it’s warm. Warm is good. Especially just now. And butter and brown sugar help.

Oh! Dear. We have play practice at 4:00... And the Irish folks are leaving tomorrow, so we have to say goodbye. Leaving, across that wide wonderful expanse we call ocean. Home…
And we’ll need to stop by Hollo’s paper craft for black poster board for Brianna’s window.
And there’s stuff to be brought back to the library.

What the heck—why not make an all-day excursion of it?

Bother errands.

So many things I have to do today.
Life is a river quick inside my veins.

Oatmeal eaten, I batten down the hatches. Things to do. Places to go. I won’t be home again for hours. Wretched feeling. Where to start? Wretcheder…
My eye catches the leaves outside. On the grass. Smothering the green.
Drat. They need raked. Dad wanted to get to that yesterday… But yesterday was what today promises to be. And the leaves are still there, smothering green.
He won’t be home in time to rake them tonight. The Irish folks are leaving, and we have to say goodbye.

I blink. And suddenly I know I dare.

“We have an hour before we leave, guys. Do whatever you need to, to get ready… I think I’m going to rake some leaves.”

A hoodie over my sweater. A scarf. My great-grandmother knit it. My old brown shoes. (Disgusting, they’ve been called. But they’re home.)
And a honey drop candy for company.
And my thoughts.
I won’t put them into words for you. Some things defy being captured, communicated, explained.

Slowly the grass is coming up for air.

So many things I have to do today.
But nothing else like raking leaves away.

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