The past few days have been sort of, y'know, perfect. I've done a little bit of everything that I loved -- in the mornings I did short runs with a friend, later I banged out some memos and syllabi (well in advance of deadlines), I did a few mid-day errands on my bike, I went nectarine-picking with my daughters, I met with students . . . it truly is just a wonderful time of year.
|Fifty four pounds of nectarines and a fresh batch of granola:|
a snapshot of a happy morning together with my daughters.
I'm trying to scaffold all these dreams by imagining myself as a "time artist" -- I look at the canvas of events and activities lying ahead of me, and I paint on it. Or perhaps I am more of a sculptor: I'm carving out time to spend with my children. I'm carving out time to ride my bike, and to thank people who helped me train this summer, and to spend some time alone, and to write exquisitely organized memos.
Today, I'll teach my first class of the semester, and I'll curate the vast collection of incoming email that the new semester brings. Tonight, we'll can up the nectarines and some pears, preserving some of these wonderful end-of-summer days so that we can feast on August, even in February. I'll plan "dates" with my sons. I'll go for a walk with my husband. Life is good.