The desk is one that I remember helping my parents construct. It is made from the wrought iron legs of an old treadle sewing machine that Daddy connected and stabilized with some metal rebar. Then, we constructed the wooden top from some planks Daddy had at the shop. I remember my paternal grandparents expressing disdain that Mama would want those old sewing machine legs.
I was really glad to get it when my mother was dispersing some of her things after she recently moved to her new house. The table had been placed in my bedroom when I was a young girl to provide me with a desk for studying. Honestly, I can say that very little studying took place at that spot. However, I did have a sentimental feeling toward it when Mom said it was up for grabs.
My view out our new windows is a beautiful one peering through the blinds and looking down the driveway toward the highway across the hay field. Sitting there is also a good place for me to watch our groundskeeper as he is mowing along the creek bank.
Watching through the slats of the blinds I can see the canvas shade he has attached to his mower bobbing along even when I cannot see the entire mower. So, I sit and listen for the hum of the mower and glance up every now and again to see the mower or the top of the canvas and I know that he is safe and hasn't slid off the bank and into the creek bed.
Then, in a little while, up the drive he comes toward the house. Sometimes there will be another couple of hours of mowing around one of the barns and sometimes into the house he comes for dinner.
And I know that lunch had better be ready in a short while!
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