Mulling things on my morning ramble
with Storm, the family's mixed Lab.
I know I am too busy when the morning ramble with the meathead is just a walk to get business done.
You know what I mean.
It's been like that for more than a week, mostly because of a crowded work schedule.
(A crowded work schedule is not a bad thing, but time dissolves.)
Finally, I feel like taking a breath.
Just in time for another oppressively hot day to settle.
I had thought about hanging in the woods and trying some squirrel hunting later today, in part to simply shake off the feeling time is wrapping vines around me.
But the thought appeals much less after a simple walk with Storm heated me up shortly after dawn.
It is the kind of day where the kids will be asking to wade again.
And it just might be an option.
That has been one highlight to a summer that is slipping away.
Since the Kankakee River came down several weeks ago, we have been doing at least a weekly wade.
That may be the defining memory of this summer for the family, the summer of wading.
Already I am almost thinking of the summer in memory, in the past tense.
Tomorrow the kids need to be registered at school.
It is time. How can that be?
Dusk settles in earlier. Now I am chased from the garden by mosquitoes closer to 8 than 9.
The numbers going the wrong way.
The summer slips away.