Saturday, September 19, 2009

A Final Saturday Morning

The days of summer are winding down here in the northern hemisphere of our great blue marble.

As I enjoy the last summer Saturday morning out on the back deck with my faithful black lab Suzy demanding my attention, the sky is clear, the umbrella on the patio table is up, and the water churns ever so gently gurgling a calming rippling sound.

There is not a cloud in the sky – and the sky is the perfect blue.

But it's chilly.

I dug the windbreaker out of my golf bag to sit on the back deck with a warm mug of coffee and a deep sense of appreciation for the beauty of the day.

Saturday mornings are so great in the summer.

There are two large maple trees on the border of the yard – just the other side of the wooden privacy fence that defines the borders of our property, and acts as an expressway thoroughfare for the squirrels in the neighborhood. One is still completely green and lush – with only the scarce leaf turning a slight tinge of yellow.

But the other is more than halfway through the autumnal change with a fiery red wine color dominating to signal summers near end.

Obviously the trees disagree.

Next Saturday it will be fall.


And I will be on my way north to play in the company's annual golf tournament. A reuniting of the foursome I played with two years ago, which I wrote about in a story I called "I love golf". I look forward to it, but I have not held a club in my hand since late June.

I hope they don't have any expectations.

Ahhh, warm creamy sweet coffee.

The following Sunday my lovely wife Darlene and I head over to Detroit for the last regular season Tigers game against the White Sox. We splurged, and got the really good seats. My hope was that this game would be a mere formality to wish the Tigers well as they start post season play as the American League Central champs. But Minnesota is only three games behind them in the standings now – and they are playing each other this weekend. They play the Tigers seven times before the end of the season, and the Twinkies are tough to beat.

So I am nervous – as I knew I would be when I wrote about this series in the first weeks of August in a story called "There's a Big Storm Brewing". The storm started with last night's opener in Minnesota's dome from hell. And the boys lost three to a lousy nothing.

But today I will enjoy the deck, and the final days of the pool – even though I have no desire to go swimming. The lawns need cutting, the gardens need weeding, and the cars need a good scrubbing and a heavy coat of wax to endure the soon to come winter weather.

The coffee sure tastes good.

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