When Mother retired from the police department, I heard her ask, more than ever, “What day is this? I get so confused on what day it is.”
Now, I’m my mother.
It doesn’t even have to be for my breaks that I confuse the days of the week; Thursdays, Fridays, and Saturdays, my three regular week days off, hurl me into a frantic tailspin hoping it’s not already Sunday and time to teach, again.
Today, it doesn’t matter the day’s name nor the order it follows. It’s beautiful with a tiny breeze bouncing around leaves and chimes, the smell of still-wet-ground from the heavy rains, the squirrels pissing with Bailey and Harrigan, disrupting their reclining positions for the big chase every four minutes, and the various pitches and rhythmic hums of cicadas.
For several weeks, this one humming sound I thought was coming from the high school; however, I’m realizing this morning that it’s cicadas in the distance and not some type of machine. There is one slightly muffled sound from across Shroyer Road, the one in the distance that I just discovered as cicadas, a set in the easement between my yard and the high school’s campus, and individual soloists scattered here and there around the backyard. And, the birds are piping loudly to create an additional layer of sound to this morning symphony.
It’s fascinatingly beautiful. I know that for some folks, it’s irritating. For me, it’s a one in seventeen years concert. I’ve enjoyed two while living on Shroyer Road, this June marking my 18th year.
Eighteen years? I lived in the home on 825 Main Street for a month shy of nineteen years before heading off to Ball State University (1964-1983). The longest I lived in any one place between 1983 and 2003 was twelve years.
So, it’s Saturday.
Tomorrow is the start of my summer schedule, thus giving me this last day to enjoy, after nine days of reading, writing, watching tons of “Modern Marvels” documentaries, “Foods That Built America,” “Men Who Built America,” and several others, having two suppers out with friends, lunching with a friend via Zoom, and doing a little shopping on Thursday… wait, Friday! Yes, I shopped on Friday.
Whatever the day, just make sure it is great. It’s a choice.