Music truck...

Music truck...

When I was a little kid, I LOVED long twilight evenings in the spring and summer. You know that time between sunset and dark dark?

Tonight brought all that back to me. I loved wandering around the yard at dusk. Often Dad was finishing up some project. Or on weekends we used to play hide & seek or kick the can; parents inside talking and letting us race madly around outside until who knows when. Pleasant memories.

The weather bar on my google sidebar says it is 70, and it is 9pm. Which explains why I was out _____ing in my yard until it was almost too dark to see. (What is the verb I'm looking for? Working isn't it. The word that comes to mind is putsing, but I don't know how to spell it. Dinking around? Playing? Humm...) Anyhow, I got my first raised bed box in position tonight, and then - and then I don't know what happened. I just putsed around. The evening just seemed to stretch out indefinitely. And before gathering up my laptop to write this post I sat under the moon and watched the bats and swallows feeding some 30 feet overhead. It was marvelous. Joyful even.

It was so pleasant I didn't even mind the music truck. I found myself cheerfully humming the opening 24 bars of "The Entertainer" because the music truck was blaring it all over the neighborhood. If you're not sure what the music truck is, this is where I have to apologize to my son. You see, when he was a toddler I told him that the ice cream truck that rolled slowly down the street on summer nights was the music truck playing nice music just for him. I'm not sure how long that little lie lasted. Anyhow, if you're reading this, Ben, I'm sorry. It was a nasty bit of deception, ranking up there with Santa Claus.