If we were having coffee, we would have trouble finding a place to sit. It’s busy in here today! You remark, but then remember this neighborhood is hosting an apple picking festival. Will they start selling cider? I wonder aloud, remembering ciders I’d had over the years. There was a booth at one of renaissance fairs named the “Cup and Chaucer,” which I think is so delightful. They had hot cider on sale for $2, and as my first morning drink, it sounded awesome. It wasn’t until I started sipping that I realized it wasn’t alcoholic, (hence the low price.) I also realized the hot drink in my pewter mug meant burned my lips and tongue.
A little girl being pushed in a stroller passes us holding a bouquet of tree branches and colored leaves. Brings the autumn inside.
Speaking of renaissance fairs, a bunch of my Rennie friends are visiting the Kansas City fair this weekend, and if we were still in the Midwest, Cohiba and I would be with them. I’d tell you about going last year, two and a half months pregnant. I wore one of my corsets on the first day, reasoning, “Pregnant women in the Renaissance wore corsets!” I was hot and uncomfortable and, for the first time, really felt pregnant. I wore a much looser outfit the next day.
If we were having coffee, you would tell me about your efforts to write. A piece you had written had been rejected and told it was not interesting enough. You said you were frosty about it at first, but – you later admitted to yourself – it was boring. You didn’t put too much of yourself into it. It didn’t pay very much, and you thought you could skate by on mediocre. Even if you could, would you want to? I asked. You shrugged and looked down embarrassed, and I ask about your blog to take your mind off it.
I point out to you an exchange happening. A man is squatting on the level of a little girl and seems to be asking her very important questions. He laughs with her and they both look up at her mother, who we decide he’s trying to pick up.
If we were having coffee, I would tell you about the “mommy and me” (or mommy and baby can come) movies that are offered around here. it’s a morning show, they turn up the lights and down the volume, and it’s understood that babies are welcome, so mother’s can go. It’s a smart move for the theater, which probably don’t make much money on a Thursday morning, it would give me a chance to see a new movie in a theater, which I haven’t done in a year, at least.
The crowd would be thinning and you wonder if the church crowd had left or if they’re still coming. I look at the clock on my phone and realize its later than I thought, always the sign of a good time. You set off in search of cider from the apple farm.