Where have I been all month? I have to look back at calendars and charts to double-check that time has passed, that I’ve grown older, the moon has waxed and waned and I have along with it.
My goal this last month was simply to write. I came here to blog a little more than usual. I am wary of committing to continuing that; whenever I do the proverbial shit flings itself onto the proverbial fan. Maybe ducking flying dookie is just how it’s going to be for a while.
Why no, I don’t write Successories posters. Why do you ask?
My dog has a nemesis, a stupid fat squirrel I’ve nicknamed Dumbo. Dumbo wants nothing more than to enjoy the seeds in our birdfeeder. Not content to roll around like Scrooge McDuck in the seeds that blanket the ground beneath the feeder, Dumbo tries to get into the bird feeder via the tree to which it is attached, scurry along the post, defeat the squirrel baffle, and eat from the feeder.
Dumbo is rarely successful, but he sure is committed and determined, if not oafish and stubborn.
It’s a few days late for this month in review, but what does time even mean anymore? July is the weekend of summer. Even now, especially now, July feels etched in my memory both dabbed in watercolor, hazy and sprawling and drawn with Sharpie, angular and indelible.
July was a time of online camps for my kids, and of trying to find outdoor activities that don’t give me the heebie-jeebies or put me on high alert. It was a time for creative celebrations of July 4, long leisurely meals on the deck, and regularly going out to watch the sunset in all its glory. These all sound a lot better right now than they actually were at the time.
Like many of you, my greatest preoccupation in July was in making difficult decisions about the kids returning to school, and supporting the same decisions as they are made, wrenchingly and with absolutely no sense of ease, by my friends for their own children and/or for their own careers.