I remember a time--not so very long ago!--when July spread before me as an entire month absent of major commitments, a vast gift of time for writing with nothing much else to worry about.
And now it's over. Where did it go? I did some writing, yes, but not nearly enough. I worked on syllabi. I read a pile of books important to my research plus a few others. (Percival Everett's Watershed--how have I missed this for so many years? And why am I just now reading Thoreau's The Maine Woods?) I did a little canoeing and went to my son's softball games and spent some time with my adorable granddaughter and saw a few movies, but how did I get to the end of July with so little to show for it?
And you know what comes next, don't you? August, the month of meetings and mayhem. It's true that classes don't start until August 24, but I already have no fewer than eight meetings scheduled between now and then, including several multi-hour meetings. If I have to be on campus more than three days a week, summer is officially over.
So it's been fun, July, and I wish we could hang out a little longer but it's time to move on. Come back and see us sometime, okay? And next time, don't be in such a big hurry to get out the door, because once you're gone, there's no holding back the mayhem.
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