Wednesday, June 23, 2004

In Two Short Hours

My life is going to change. School will be out for the summer. I remember the way this day used to feel, as a child. It felt like the Mother of All Fridays. Endless possibility burgeoning at the outlines of capability. Pools. Ponds. Beaches. Naps. Graham crackers. Fluffnutters. Older, then...Gin and Tonics on the porch with dad, playing backgammon...tanning by Buzzards Bay.

Now, it means the end of my alone time. I am the cruise director for the summer. And the therapist, cook, maid, bank, taxi and tutor. Yipes. That sucks baby wipes. Okay, not all of it. But it *is* daunting. Especially with little money. Perhaps we should play Little House on the Prairie for the summer. Wear gingham dresses and play with gourds and corn husk dolls. Oh. That would work ever-so-well with the teenager. Ah. No. Unless said corn husk doll listens to hip-hop and can help the teeny straighten the back of her hair. And go to the store and buy her some new razors, you know the kind-with-the-soap already attached? (Fuck Jewel, it was a stupid song anyway. Intuition, my ass!)

I have spent the past few days in a flurry of creative efforts. Making wonderful cards for Pan and Skydancer, doing Paintshop Pro work, photography and a sortza other things. I felt the rotating door starting to make smaller the window of opportunity for such luxuries.

Still, I intend to set apart time each day for myself, a little anyway. And the girls have reading time, every. day. So. Help. Me. Gawd. less than 120 minutes away.

The heart quickens, the breath comes faster. The End Is Near.


Anonymous Anonymous said...

So strange-- this is the second blog today that mentions Little House on the Prairie--(the other one was hmmm, maybe something's going on there-- but let's see--- can you imitate Huck Finn and put a paint brush in their hands and get them painting the picket fence? Or set them to cleaning closets? Hee-- yeah RIGHT. Sorry, not trying to pour salt in the wound-- instead, a little salt on the back of the wrist with a shot of tequila first and end with a suck on lemon-- ahhhh, that will definitely help with the transition to summer.--- bluepoppy

6:56 AM  
Blogger Sparkmonkey said...

Well, Congratilatins on being my first commenter. Phew! I thought I would make it to rigor mortis without ever hearing from someone else out here...thanks!!

As for tequila, em, I think it tastes like stewed tennis shoes. No. Really. Like the way some folks think cilantro tastes like soap. (personally I *adore* cilantro). The only time I really enjoyed tequila was once after climbing around in the Rockies for a few days, I ambled down to Colorado Springs and slit a pitcher of margaritas with my hiking companion. I don't remember much about the rest of the night, but for the part about the racoons climbing in my window, grabbing my edam cheese and dragging it all over the roof outside my window. Which, by morning looked as if a giant toddler had doodled with a red crayong all over the roof. I had some 'splainin ta do the next morning.


9:37 AM  

Post a Comment

<< Home