Clean It, Pitch It, or Go Swimming?

Truely, I like our screened in porch a lot. This morning everything in it was covered with last winter's grime and this spring's pine pollen. Everything in it had a fine covering of green. With company coming, I can't ignore it another day. Sometimes a porch just seems like another room to clean. Even the bricks on the floor needed soap and water brooming. Oh, why do we collect rocks. A rock is the hardest thing to keep clean. Cursed crystals.

It wouldn't have been quite such a project if I hadn't noticed that the wrought iron table needed a coat of spray gloss Rustoleum. That is not my favorite job in the world either. Now every chair is looking pretty bad in comparison. My dad made a wrought iron coffee table and five room divider sort of things. They are about seven feet tall and about 18 inches wide with curled iron between the twisted uprights. I can't describe them. They need paint.

Everything is done finally except for the chairs. I even got in a short swim, until one of those little black two legged bugs bit me in the arm. At first I thought it was black spray paint. I wish it had been. I hate swimming with those little biters. The cholorine needed a boost.

This day is never going to be over. I started it with a 30 minute hike on the walking machine because I didn't think I would get any exercise.

I recieved three copies of "Crazy Woman Creek" in the mail today. I have a small bit of verse in it called "The Non-Musicals Sing Their Last Song." I should be happier about it. Three years ago I would have been estatic. Today, it seems sort of puny. I guess I'll send the copies to my school friends in South Dakota.