where wildly different is perfectly normal
Adieu summer, I hardly knew ye
Adieu summer, I hardly knew ye

Adieu summer, I hardly knew ye

And like that…summer is over.

I didn’t intend to take a long blogging hiatus, it just sorta happened. You don’t plan to fail, you just fail to plan. I presented at the SENG conference, attended a friend’s wedding, taught a few band camps, hauled boys all over hell and Georgia for camps and college visits, gave a record number of summer lessons, and watched in horror as my country continued to slide a greased pole into a fascist dumpster fire. All that as I tried to catch up and recover from 13 weeks of band director subbing last spring. Life got life-y.

Life’s about to get even life-ier (shush, is so a word).

While the boys have been back to school (or gradually easing back into the homeschool life) for a few weeks, today is when I return to lessons. It’s also when my husband returns to regular work hours, Andy is tossed into his online classes, and the aforementioned pole into a dumpster fire gets a fresh coat of grease and gets gift-wrapped in angry Hydra giving side-eye. The MomVan has an emergency appointment tomorrow to search for the source of a very concerning sound/feel, Andy has seven months to get his Eagle Scout wrapped up, I’ve agreed to more writing projects, my studio schedule is almost completely packed (this is the best possible problem to have, but still…), and I am co-facilitating self-care classes with Kate again this fall.

There is an amazing amount of life in my life these days.

While it felt like summer managed only to give me a noogie as it dashed to the Southern Hemisphere, I did manage to eke out some summer delight. I made homemade ice cream, twice. Went to hear the Chicago Symphony at Ravinia (Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony, a favorite, and I loved it). I gardened, but not nearly enough. I took a nap in the shade. Went and played with cats at the local shelter a couple times. Served dinner on the patio. I enjoyed the hell outta summer.

And now it’s autumn eve. I can’t call it autumn, as it’s supposed to be hot as balls the next few days, but after Labor Day it’s not really summer any longer, no matter how desperately we grasp it to our sweaty bosoms. It’s the time of year when we buckle down and get shit done, even as we stare wistfully at the beautiful weather outside. It’s the time of year when I plan, so I don’t fail again.

To start, I plan to plan on the patio, in the shade, with maybe a nap after.

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