Here’s the Thing


september2015 132

This is just another Saturday.

Nothing momentous; nothing special.

This is the one-hundred and eighteenth day in a row that I have posted a blog. Now, I wish I’d thought to write about it when I could have said “100!” or that I could hold off until I could say “125!” But no, today is the day when I bring it up, because, frankly, I have little else to say.

I could, if I had more time, move on to the next address and tell about the apartment in McCafferty’s Hotel and all the things that happened there. It happens, though, that I have been very close to being on time to work for two days in a row now…and I’d like to make it three. If I take the time to find photos to scan and download, and start wading through old memories, I will surely be very late this morning. It can wait.

I could tell about all the frustrations that filled my day yesterday (don’t we all look forward to those conversations!) and how discouraged I was by the end of the day…how sad I felt, and how unable to make anything better. I should mention that a lovely, long talk with a friend helped to ease my discouragement and lifted my mood, so that my worries were eased by the time I went to bed.

I could go into detail – if there were more time – about the book I’m reading, and what a pleasure it is. I didn’t know much about Pat Conroy until after he died, but I’m learning a great deal about him now. Currently, his My Reading Life is entertaining me and hugely expanding my list of books I want to read, authors I want to know.

But it’s late. The remaining snow is diminishing every day, and will be gone before the week is out. Temperatures are mild. The sun shining in through the east window woke me up this morning, and made me think it was much later than it was. Sunshine, already over the treetops, at six forty-five! Trees are holding on to that special shade of green that they show only until the leaves open up. The floor of the woods is brightening with the wild onion-smelling ramps, trout lilies and tiny spring beauties. Tulips and daffodils are getting ready to bloom in my yard. The serviceberry bush and the forsythia are in bud. Lilac and snowball bush won’t be far behind.

This is Saturday.

Nothing momentous.

Everything special.


2 responses »

  1. How do you do it?! I can’t write a post a day to save my life. You’re amazing, and I always look forward to reading what you have to say.

    • Thanks, Sara! I seem to be going through a rough spell with it right now…other times it goes easier. It will be a huge accomplishment for me if I make it through this year with a post a day! Thanks for reading!

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