My dead arm woke me up. I know that I have slept too long, but I can't hear any pitter patter of small puffy feet. Grandma must have let me sleep and taken LQ when she woke from her nap.
I LOVE Grandma.
I lay on the bed staring out the window waiting for my whole body to wake up. As I look at the wind shaking the trees I think about how much I am going to miss having the live-in grandma. My mind begins to wander to other subjects - how much fabric will I REALLY need to make a Mickey Mouse silhouette head board. Important subjects like that are a continuous stream when my mind isn't otherwise occupied.
I am interrupted mid thought by a scene passing my window. It is a familiar but beautiful scene that only takes a moment to unfold.
Grandma comes into sight carrying shovel in one hand and plastic bag in the other. The chickens must have been invading the human's territory again and left poo deposits up and down the driveway. An old dog slowly follows behind. In her younger years this sunset coloured dog would not have allowed such a befowlment on her master's property. Those chickens would have known who was head animal and may have even had their numbers depleted (if they knew what was good for them... grrrowl). Now the old dog's biggest worry is choosing a sunspot that will soothe her aching arthritic bones.
Lurching, stumbling, half-jogging behind the old dog arrives LQ. Her butterfly gumboots especially purchased for ambling around the grandparents five acres hinder her progress somewhat. LQ's mastery of the boots is coming along but she still manages to appear tipsy as she walks past the window.
The three - Grandma, Old Dog and LQ - amble single file along the path through the unkempt garden. This has become a familiar routine over this past winter month. As the sun tentatively and quickly shows what it is really capable of, Grandma will announce it is time for outside. Gumboots, beanie and puffy vest are donned in an excited flurry. LQ is heard to pronounce "'side?!" (outside) several times. Then it is on to pottering, gardening, piggy-backing ("Hang On!") and old dog chasing.
The flashing scene outside my window reminds me that these lazy days will soon come to end. I quickly capture the memory framing it in my mind. The framed memory will be used later when I lament days gone by when toes and cheeks were chubbier and life was all about being outside.