Another weekend has passed without a visit to Roundrock. This is getting difficult. I don’t think I’ve ever gone this long without a trip to my woods. Yes, I’ve been busy and active with my free time, so it’s not as though I’m sitting on the couch, lamenting my fate. But the woods and waters there are so much a part of my mental make up that it just seems wrong to be without for so long.
The most recent weekend included a visit from my brother and his family as well as yet another 5K race. This coming weekend includes a visit by Libby’s niece and her family. The weekend after that: my daughter and son-in-law are in town for a wedding. Opportunities for a trip to the woods are not abounding. Plus, I must get my miles. You may remember that I’m running my first full marathon in October. My goal between now and then is to run 230 miles, which is completely do-able if I stay on task. If I can grab those miles, then I will complete 1,000 miles for the year during the full marathon. I did that last year when I ran my first half marathon, and it proved to be both a motivator to persevere and a reward for having done so. Weekends are when I can grab the longer miles, weekends when I might be at Roundrock. Thus are my troubles.
I do wonder about the status of the phoebe nest. Surely she’s done bringing off her broods. If so, if the nest is empty, I will then face the dilemma of whether or not to remove her mud nest from the front of the cabin. The neat and tidy part of me would want to do that, but the nurturing steward in me believes that if I leave it, she’ll return each year to use it (as I understand phoebes will do). But if the nest is not empty and I find eggs still in it, I face a different dilemma. Do I conclude that the eggs are old and will never hatch? Or do I give her more time and solitude.
I also wonder about the status of the mouse in the cabin. Surely by now it’s died of starvation and lack of water. Right? Or did it gnaw a hole through the side of the cabin so it (and all of its friends) can come and go as they please? I suspect the former, but not knowing is what bothers me the most. And not getting out to Roundrock to find out adds to that.
What about the lake? It never filled fully this most recent spring. And though there has been a lot of rain until recently, I suspect the lake is low and looking sad. Add that possibility to another thing I just don’t know.
So sorry for this lamenting post. Here’s a question for you: What is your common name for the piece of furniture that many people call a couch? Do you say sofa. Divan? Davenport? Crash pad? (I knew someone who said it should never be called a divan, that that was low class. How is that kind of judgment even possible?)