I have, for some inexplicable reason, been buying garden things lately. I go on sprees like this every once in while and this seems to be one of those nervous whiles. I say nervous because today is the day before Election Day and there is a lot going on for me, but at the same time, I’m not going anywhere. Let me explain. I am starting the final set of hearings on a case I have been working on for over three years. I will have spent over 300 hours on this case over that time, including spending a week in hearings in Des Moines, Iowa 18 months ago. One way or another, this ends for me this week and I am certainly hoping that this arbitration goes in a positive direction for my client, the claimants in this case, about them being drawn into unsafe investor waters and cast adrift, thereby losing a great deal of money. So, starting in a few hours I will be in a Zoom hearing for five hours today, five hours on Wednesday (we take Election Day off) and then seven hours Thursday and as much as eight hours on Friday. None of the lawyers seem to think this will drag on that long, but in these uncertain times, anything is possible. The point is, I will be busy, but nailed to my office chair awaiting the next announced break.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch (a.k.a. Hilltop), there is a road crew coming to resurface our street. They have some of their heavy equipment parked at the end of our short street, and they have signs up everywhere declaring their work schedule and the need for all comers to stay off the street for the next three days. I have spoken to the crew chief and he told me that we will be able to get in and out if we need and that they will accommodate us (I’m sure their are limits and this is intended as an accommodation to be used only a few times). The only time we absolutely cannot drive on the street will be on Wednesday when they have just laid the new asphalt. I think today is the day they rip up the old asphalt, which means tomorrow they should be preparing the road bed for the new stuff that will be laid the day later. That’s a lot of activity for our little street, on which four families have homes with driveways attached to the street. But, given the positioning of our house on the hilltop, we sort of sit above it all, not to say we are detached from what happens on the street. I have already cut off about ten Agave Attenuatas that were artfully overhanging the border stones I placed along the the road edge last year. Yesterday, Mike asked me if he could have them if I was going to cut them off, so I did just that and trucked the large plant stems down to his yard for replanting. He greeted me with a wheelbarrow and I told him he would need a bigger boat. He now has a pile of agaves in his yard. I have spoken to the road crew chief about my stones and they don’t seem too concerned about working around them…we’ll see how that all goes. I sense there will inevitably be some post-roadwork cleanup chores for me to do one way or another. So, lots going on at the fringes of the hilltop this week.
We also have another (second annual) party on Saturday night after Kim’s show for her 70+ fellow singers and hangers-on. With Handy Brad’s help, I put up the string lights around the big driveway shadesail, lending a party-like air to the evenings on the open parking area between the house and the garage. During the week this week (presumably for me, after the hearings, which are on Central Time), there will be be tables and chairs to set out and beverage buckets for ice and sodas/beers/wine to prepare. Party-giving takes a lot of work before during and after and the conflicting part is mostly the before part since Kim has rigorous rehearsals all week and I have my this week case plus preparation for another case which starts in hearings in L.A. next week and may require added prep work this week as well. In other words, what were we thinking when we planned out our week?
I am currently in our living room and I am waiting to set up for my first day of hearings, by having a little breakfast and pounding out this story. I can hear the road crew at work down below, even though I cannot see them just yet. Kim is off in the bedroom doing her vocal trills, readying for her escape to rehearsal later in the afternoon. And sitting in front of me by the front door are two huge packages with something I had forgotten that I ordered for the garden. I was able to ascertain that they are two globe-shaped planters that I ordered a while ago and am as yet uncertain what will go in them and where they will be placed. I liked the look and incremental additives are how I roll in my garden, but thinking about all that right now is difficult. Did I mention that we also have the most momentous election of my lifetime happening tomorrow and that none of us knows where things are likely going in this country in the foreseeable future? Just another thing to pile on top of an already busy week and still have those big boxes staring me in the face. I think I will take a moment to at least get them out of the house and into the garage with the upright dolly I have. I will wait until tomorrow when I will really need a distraction or two to open the boxes and get at what’s inside. I also have two replacement wind spinners in two boxes in the garage. I emphasize the work “replacement” because I am forbidden from getting any more wind spinners to add to the back hillside. I have ten back there already and for some strange reason, Kim thinks I’m overdoing it. When she saw the new spinners in the garage, I had to quickly explain that I am replacing two that have gotten old and rusty. That’s all true, but I haven’t yet told her that I plan to try to refurbish the old ones if possible and to not throw them out. That’s a battle for another day.
As I sat there contemplating those big planter boxes, I began to feel like I wanted to crawl inside the bigger one and close the lid for a few days. Fortunately, there is also a slightly smaller one that Kim can use for the same purpose if she so chooses. Big boxes have always been something of an intrigue to little children. They use them to make forts and such and to escape their seemingly maddening three-year-old world and get to a calmer and better place of the imagination. a place where everything is possible and nothing bad can happen. It is no wonder that I find myself sizing up a big box to crawl into for a few days. It’s not about the expert witness casework. It’s not about the back hillside spinners. It’s not about my other garden adornments or even my newly planted olive tree. It’s not even about the road crew down below on the street grinding away at the street that I have called my own for a dozen years now. The metaphors are flying fast and furiously now, but the real reason why crawling into the safety of a big box is appealing is the knowledge that about half this country is ready to throw out all that we have built in 250 years and that give the blanket of comfort and security to most of us on a day-to-day basis. Maybe I know that better than others because I have lived in the less wonderful parts of the world for a good portion of my life and when I wasn’t living there I was traveling there and putting up with whatever made it all less than what we have here and now. I want to go hibernate in that box until this is all over and a silly memory. From what I can tell right now, I’m probably gonna need a bigger box.