Wednesday, July 9, 2008

What I'd like to be doing

Sometimes I feel like I've walked into a restaurant that looks really great from the street, but when I sit down and see the menu, I think....gee, do you have one with better choices? I know I walked in here under my own power, but now that I'm here, nothing looks too appetizing.
Here's what's on my menu:

  1. revising an article that's due on 8/15, when I feel pretty sure that the revisions "suggested" by the editor will turn my essay into something much less interesting (to me)
  2. grading more papers
  3. cleaning the house
  4. cleaning the house
  5. cleaning the house
  6. mowing the lawn and weeding
Here's the menu I wish I had:

  1. sewing the six pairs of "around the house" shorts I cut out on Monday night
  2. finishing the two sets of pillow tops I'm embroidering (a pair of pigs and a pair of camels; I've done the first of each set)
  3. sewing a comfortable, belly-positive swimsuit with the Kwik-Sew swimsuits and activewear master pattern book I bought two weeks ago
  4. finally finishing my big healthcare collage
  5. taking a nap
  6. putting together the Broken Dishes and Four-Patch quilt blocks I've finished
  7. taking a nap
  8. going to the pool by myself in the very attractive, belly-positive swimsuit I just finished (see #3)
Tonight when we were at a picnic with the other families from Elliot's baseball team, we heard the cicadas for the first time this summer. Every year I promise myself that I won't get melancholy when I hear them, but it never works, and this time was no exception. Unlike other years, though, I was with a bunch of other women who had the same looks on their faces as I must have. It was nice to know that I'm not the only one who mourns the passing of summer when it's really not quite half over.

1 comment:

wholeclothdesigns said...

We don't have cicadas, so my annual reminder of summer's end is the smell of fall. It usually hits me about the second week of August when I'm out gardening, but I've been imaging that I can smell it already.

I really hate the heat of summer, but I'm not looking forward to the nine months of grey and rain that are lurking just around the bend.