Wednesday, June 01, 2011
June 1st
As I have said before, for me, June 1st will always be International Children’s Day. I grew up with it in Poland and I continue to recall it, in the same way that I recall July 22nd as post war Poland’s national holiday, and May 1st as Labor Day. It seems that by switching countries, I have gained a number of memorable dates. I've added Thanksgiving and Fourth of July. Sort of like an expanding family adds birthdays. Curiously, I have, at the same time, shed quite a number of birthdays to remember. A classic case of winning some, losing others.
So perhaps it is not surprising that I behaved like a child today, given the date. I failed to meet my self imposed grading deadline. It was to be June 1st, even though I knew that it would be a struggle to finish this early. It was more than a struggle. It was not to be.
It may have worked, had the days been less radiant, less beautiful. Had I not told myself again and again – these are the best, the very best days on the farmette, when you can still enjoy the outdoors, when you can plant and watch things grow (as opposed to wilt, shrivel and retreat). No bugs, no office time, plenty of sunshine – bliss!
And, of course, Ed and I are still struggling to make progress on farmhouse projects. The porch is now finally under attack. Rotten boards are torn off, new ones are cut to size. I have to paint what’s there, Ed has to measure screening material and eventually nail it down. It’s a huge undertaking.
One adult element of this day is the evening on the town with my older daughter.
It's good that I am out at the farm. It's great that the farm isn't too far from either daughter's more urban home.
So perhaps it is not surprising that I behaved like a child today, given the date. I failed to meet my self imposed grading deadline. It was to be June 1st, even though I knew that it would be a struggle to finish this early. It was more than a struggle. It was not to be.
It may have worked, had the days been less radiant, less beautiful. Had I not told myself again and again – these are the best, the very best days on the farmette, when you can still enjoy the outdoors, when you can plant and watch things grow (as opposed to wilt, shrivel and retreat). No bugs, no office time, plenty of sunshine – bliss!
And, of course, Ed and I are still struggling to make progress on farmhouse projects. The porch is now finally under attack. Rotten boards are torn off, new ones are cut to size. I have to paint what’s there, Ed has to measure screening material and eventually nail it down. It’s a huge undertaking.
One adult element of this day is the evening on the town with my older daughter.
It's good that I am out at the farm. It's great that the farm isn't too far from either daughter's more urban home.
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