sort of like a workday

The day flew out of my grasp today. I'm sure this is true for most busy people most every day of their busy lives, but when you get a tad older and you loosen your grip on some of the things that kept you running several decades earlier, days become calmer and one that runs full speed ahead is a rarity.

It's my fault. To an extent. My irksome threads of these past months -- restoring citizenship and monitoring identity theft usually clutter portions of each day still and, too, I knew when I signed on  to a new teaching load, I knew I'd have my summer instantly filled with work. In addition, I want to improve the farmette -- that's a constant that I'll have with me as long as... well, just for a long long time. Heaven isn't created for you. You are the architect. If you stand idle, it'll slowly disappear.

Finally, I take responsibility for my travel agenda. People who go away have to remember to attend to everything in advance of a departure. I know that very very well.

So it was a busy day -- too busy to go to yoga, too busy to sit back and read a book, too busy to sit on the porch and do nothing much.

But not too busy for breakfast.






(Here are Ed and Isis, playing the "are you in? or are you out?" game...)






Nor too busy for a morning garden inspection.
















And not too busy to have a wonderful game of tennis with Ed. Among the pines.

And certainly not too busy to cook dinner for my older girl and her husband.







(We're all eating on the porch of course...)






And not even too busy, late in the evening, to pitch a tent in the young fruit orchard.


 


They say there'll be a meteor shower tonight. We've dumped our sleeping bags and pillows inside. Maybe we'll see the heavens explode. At the very least, we'll feel the cool breezes that are blowing through the Midwest at night.

And that's a good thing.

(Goodnight, farmhouse. We'll see you in the morning.)