There are only seven days left of school, and I have never been more ready for summer. Mostly I feel stuck -- there isn't that much left to do for my classes, other than some tedious homework grading that doesn't really matter. But I'm not ready to start any of my summer projects, because it's hard to make a good beginning without peace, quiet, and cleanliness. I feel like I'm just killing time until June 1st, when I can take a good, long, look at everything around me and get it back in order. The language of that statement brings my physical environment to mind, and that's certainly a priority for me this summer. (Pantry and kitchen are due for an over-haul!) But I also need to make rhythms for myself, a sort of habitation in time, or I'll move forward erratically and desperately.
I just looked down at my hands typing: older and more serious than they used to be. Not unbeautiful, though.
I'm looking forward to reading Shakespeare with a friend, long sessions with novels, a little bit of Greek or Latin every day, pickling and baking, soft and cool early mornings, those intoxicating evening drives through tall green corn country, and breakfast. We don't eat breakfast during the school year.