Snarkily We Roll Along
Mid Point

The Last Weekend In June

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I was so happy, happy, happy to hear from so many of my readers for the last post. Your compliments about the new blog design (ah, shucks, it not like I asked for it but I did) were sweet. Fear not, the very bland header will be replaced soon with a hand painted one. Soon as I paint it or find the one I painted two years ago and never scanned in.  I do find that as I age, I am trending toward clean, white spaces in my life.  It best be a passing phase because there is a whole lot of glittery magpie collections in my life and whatever would I do with it all? 

Here's a question to which I'd really like answers: I keep all your comments in my email inbox. I always plan to answer them, sometimes more successfully than not! Do people prefer replies to their comments to be sent to them personally, or do you check the comments to see if replies are made there? I think replaying on the blog is more interesting and makes for more of a community, but since I have not done that often in the past,  I am afraid no one would go to the box. So let me know what you think is the best way. 

 

 

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Oh June, you are delightful.  Bright, hot days layered between cool mornings and nights that entice us to linger long past bedtime and read by fairy lights on the porch.  Days stretch to nine o'clock, mornings awaken us with bird song at 4:45 ,and it seems lunchtimes call for salads on park benches.

I hate to see you go!

 

 

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The Graphic Designer and I were discussing our reactions to early summer this year. We are jubilant, yet distrustful. We are anxious for the season to be fully realized in all its popsicle moments,  yet nervous that it will pass by in the blur that leads to 6 more months of winter.  I most certainly have a touch of PTSD from last winter and now find myself reaching for the cord to stop the train that hurtles right through heat waves and deposits us at the station decorated with Christmas wreaths.

 

 

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All this is on my mind as I stumble around this Saturday morning and shove two-week's worth of clothes, books, and art supplies into a variety of duffles in preparation for my vacation. I haven't taken two weeks in a row in a few years now, what with too many schedules of spouse and children to consider and the revving up of the workload that makes returning a holy hell. 

 

 

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Going to the cottage these days is not unlike the planning that I imagine goes into a World Summit of all the heads of state. Work vacations, tenant leases, buses, trains, and automobiles, bed counts, cousins's tandem schedules, baby sleeping schedules, friends to accommodate, family to corral, it's all a bit much that leaves me rather beaten down and thinking of leasing a shed for one on an island in Maine next summer. 

 

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I'd suffer it all, though, just to get Mr. Pom along with us. In the past six months, he has had a pernicious attack of back problems that has not responded to his usual bag of tricks: rest, ice, NSAIDS, epidural injections, chiropractor - all for  naught. It came to a head last week when the six hour car ride back from Father's Day on the Cape resulted in agony and he's been in bed since. Obviously, he is not coming, but he wasn't anyway, because he cannot take a week before or after a holiday, being in a business that is consumer driven.  But it means he'll spend the mid weekend of the Fourth home alone instead of with us for the holiday. Fingers crossed, fingers crossed, he won't be out of work so long that he can't come for our family week in August.  Exhausting pain, exhausting worry, and sadness to be there without him.

 

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Fear not, hoever, there will be plenty of posts from up yonder once I settle in. I still have to report about Vermont indigo, Beacon indigo, pies, lambs, slip and slides,  Squishy pool adventures, and most importantly, SUMMER READING!

So tell me what you are up to this summer? Where are you going and what are you making?

 

 

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