MY DAY: Where did Saturday go?

When I rose at 8:10 AM, I only fed the dogs and opened the deck door for them to come and go; no coffee was made and there were no attempts to fully dive into the day; the body was not cooperating.

Save for a few bathroom breaks, I remained in bed until 2:00 PM, nursing the tummy ache and a menacing sinus headache. A sinus flush and a few over-the-counter medications relieved neither aggravators. But, I had audio books and documentaries playing continually, so whether I had fallen asleep or was barely cognizant, I had my mind stirred with interesting stuff.

I listened to several interviews with Supreme Court Justices, Ruth Bader Ginsberg and Antonin Scalia. Their intellectual challenging and light hearted banter are so cheering for me. I wish there were more interviews forthcoming.

The deck is humid and slightly uncomfortable. The cicadas are having parties in the backyard’s bushes and the lilac bush seems to be a favorite hub for the buzz. Their buzz ebbs and flows in its intensity, crescendoing and decresendoing.

TWENTY- MINUTE BREAK: mowed the backyard

As I sat her typing, I was growing ever more uncomfortable with the grass’ length in the backyard as it grows quickly. I feared if I couldn’t get to it by Noon, tomorrow, Sunday, it would be a bear to mow. The front yard seems to be in fine shape.

Done, and I feel quite relieved.

As I was mowing, a cicada landed on my neck. I could actually hear, up close, it’s solo voice. I stopped mowing, turned off the mower, and listened. Its song is short-lived. Before long, the cicada voices will be silenced for another seventeen years. I hope I am afforded another seventeen years to cheer on their awakening. Hell, double that to thirty-four years; I will be ninety years old. As long as I am not a burden to anyone but myself, I welcome that age.

I had hoped to see a student in their school production but when I called the school for tickets the response was a buzz. After several attempts, I sent the school office an email but received no response. I tried to acquire tickets for today’s matinee or evening production with no success. Grrrr….

On with the evening. Now that my body is infused with a bit more energy from mowing, I am hoping to accomplish some writing amongst the sounds of documentaries, possibly even IN THE HEIGHTS, again, and Nature’s chorus of cicadas and birds.

About Wright Flyer Guy

Darin is a single adoptive father, a teacher, playwright, and musical theatre director from Kettering, Ohio.
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