How does a day become so terribly unremarkable so quickly? And maybe 'unremarkable' isn't such a good word here anyway, because it is also true that I am absolutely swamped. Smothered in tasks. So that, for example, the goal I had set for myself this summer -- of editing my book project at least one day each week -- seems kind of funny. I'll be lucky if I get to throw in laundry into the washer one day each week.
Of course, some of the unremarkable routines are priceless. Like the breakfast one, now in the new breakfast nook.
And here's a good bit of luck: the weather is on the upswing again. Today it was sunny and, by afternoon, 80 degrees outside. (I know, I know -- a tiny bit off schedule.) I ride Rosie to work and back twice today and each ride is spectacular.
But hey, when did the cornfields turn yellow? Was it when I was preoccupied with thoughts of the wedding?
I come back to the farmhouse for lunch. I have a window of time and I want the quiet of our farmette for that.
I promptly fall asleep. I never nap in the afternoon. Never. Today I napped.
Later, I am back on campus and in the evening I continue in my string of meals away from home -- this time it's pizza with my students.
By the time I ride Rosie back to the farmette, it's dark. Which simply reminds me that it sure gets dark early now. Unlike, say in June…
There are swarms of box elder bugs flying around now, somewhat madly it seems. There is always a certain madness to life in the last warm days of the year. I know that. And I'm fine with it. Just as soon as I get used to this different set of routines -- at once busier and yet less intense.
As a post scriptum, I just wanted to say thank you so very much for all the beautiful comments and notes I received from you on the occasion of my daughter's wedding. It's hard to express gratitude well. I always feel like I'm using words that have been spoken a million times and non too cleverly at that, but just know that it was so sweetly uplifting to hear from you all. So thank you.