I have been writing posts in my head all week. I’ve been swamped, and I love it. I’m doing copy editing. Being paid to write. Life is good.
Except. I haven’t had a scrap of time to write–on my novel, or here. Still trying to find balance. Always this. Is there such a thing? I am determined to sink deep into these last summer days with gratitude.
The humid hot and sticky days.
Making cherry pie, served warm with whipped cream.
Yellow watermelon.
Friends visiting a lot.
Backyard bonfires.
The corn almost ripe in the garden.
Oscillating fans.
Rain falling from sunny skies.
My apricot colored cat on the white sheets.
The dragonflies circling in the heavy air, waiting for rain.
Falling in love again, more, enormously with my guy.
New calf muscles, and biceps.
Running hard almost every day.
Swimming in the pond in the rain.
Bean’s obsession with helium balloons.
My beautiful, gorgeous baby boy Sprout who is six months old, sitting, almost crawling, smiling always. I adore him. Utterly. He is a dream baby, and I don’t want him to grow up yet.
I found these lines at the end of a poem today–in the Sun, from A Warning by Eric Anderson
Nothing ever goes away enough or arrives enough,
and I want to cry when I think of my heart,
muscle pounding in muscle, greedy always for joy.
This is exactly how I feel.
***
What do you want to remember about August?
The hot and then cold nights, needing an afgan and then kicking it off. Finishing my Masters. Long lazy days with nowhere to be. Watching the children build trenches at the beach. Listening to 26 Fairmount Avenue where Tomie dePaola reads his own books. Planning a new patio in our back yard. Looking toward the coming school year unraveling in front of me, like a magic carpet, my goal…to work on ME.
Good good lines from A Warning. I’m off to find the rest of the poem.
after my post today….i want to remember the sunflowers !!
but mostly, i want to remember my hubby coming home for my birthday weekend
The bounty of summer squash and serranos, outdoor movies with the kids, days of soaking up sun and devouring books, the roar of the Pacific, dining al fresco, sleeping with the windows open, & definitely those four days and three nights of absolute renewal of passion.
Bonus extra time to spend with my friend Camilla who lives in Poland but was in Sweden during August, Malmöfestival & the waterballs, a veritable plethora of cloud-less blue sky days, lying on the trampoline with the kids watching for shooting stars, buried treasure salads.
August = the week and a half at Bread Loaf that has filled the entire summer. (Being in Vermont at the mosquito-est of days.)
What a lovely post. Those last few lines from A Warning are breathtaking.
I want to remember lazy hazy afternoons spent on the deck with a good book, the sheen of hot humid days, crashing on the couch with my husband and the dog in front of an oscillating fan to watch a movie, corn on the cob, cool summer dresses, fresh tomatoes and shooting stars.
Thank you for making me stop to think and write about this.
Everything. I just want to remember everything.
I want to remember my birthday and my amazing friends who made it special for me. I want to remember the sweet new boy in my life who is making it happen despite being 500 miles away (stupid, stupid distance). I want to remember that it needs to be a time to look forward and find the future.
August? The whole summer is a blur… playing on the enormous stage at summerfest in San Diego.
7,000 miles of back-roads, family owned diners, gigs in new places.
Our abused, rescue beagle “Lilla” overcoming shyness bit by bit, smiling with an under-bite at curious, delighted toddlers at farmers’ markets while Coco and I sang to the fruits and vegetables.
Learning a few words in Greek from a laughing waitress in a formal gown (?). I’ll never know why she was dressed that way. I don’t want to know.
August? Counting Crows, Bruce Springsteen and the Seeger Sessions, discovering this blog through Sun.
And here I was, coffee in hand, ready to forget everything about August.
“Some folks live for others.
Some live in their dreams.
Some live like tomorrow was
Already history.” (from the song: “charlene”, on “Cafe Loco”)
I want to remember my travels to Taos and LA and NY and Lopez Island. Summer sun in Seattle and hardly any rain! New friends, new foods (try goat brie–it is amazing)! Long, warm nights where it stays light until 9p.m. Outdoor concerts and picnics and picking blackberries on my street.