Saturday Morning

This morning I set up the coffee and decided to wash last night's dishes while I was waiting. I turned on the kitchen radio. It was too loud and when I turned the knob, it wouldn't go lower. I unplugged it angrily but that wasn't right either. I plugged it back in and dumped my sweatshirt over the radio and that seemed to quiet it.
Bill came downstairs, he laughed at my sweatshirt on top of the radio. "It wouldn't get quiet" I said.
He took the radio apart and fixed the volume knob in three minutes.
"Thank you so much. Two things make me crazy faster than anything; loud noises and bad smells."
"I know" he said.
I can't wear that sweatshirt until I wash it because there's strong cologne on it from being hugged by our friend at the block party. When I wear it it's like he's sitting on my right shoulder. It's too distracting.
I put my risen sour dough boules in the oven and within minutes the house filled up with a good smells. I went outside with scissors and started cutting the grass.
"We have better tools for that," Bill said coming out to see me.
"I know, it's crazy but it's just a tiny patch. I didn't want to make any noise."
I roamed on my knees grabbing and cutting clumps of grass like I was the hairdresser for a big green monster. It was silly and satisfying. I listened to my neighbors on the other side of the parking lot greet each other. They were talking about this beautiful Saturday. "We're just going to hang out," Joe said standing there with his wife and son.
"I say family is most important," my neighbor Malik said in his beautiful Ghanian accent.
A beautiful morning in the neighborhood.