Saturday, August 23, 2014

Having survived the first cut for varsity soccer, Younger Son joyously leaped out of bed at 6 a.m., ate several slices of cold pizza, and chortled all the way up to Dover-Foxcroft, where he'll be playing in the preseason soccer tournament. Elder Son is still in bed, procrastinating slothfully before he stalks off to his last summertime pizza-cooking stint. [You no doubt are beginning to draw pizza conclusions here: yes, Younger Son is the garbage disposal for Elder Son's leftovers.] I plan to do absolutely no editing today . . . mostly because I'll be spending a good portion of it driving the chortler back and forth from the tournament but also because I just don't feel like it. What I do feel like doing is making a French raspberry tart and reading more Denise Levertov poems, and what I ought to do is vacuum and clean the bathroom. But maybe none of it will get done. Maybe I will drink more coffee and do crossword puzzles. This day is already shaping up to be a day of nothing in particular. Sorry you got the brunt of the Blog-Post-That-Need-Not-Exist, but maybe it will make you feel better about your own indecisive Saturday.


Ruth said...

Yes, a Scarlet O'Hara Day. I had one yesterday. It was delicious! Enjoy the baking, forget the cleanig. tomorrow is another day!

Ang said...

Just read your letter about the ambiguities of living. Well put. I intend to use your thinking to help my arguments for universal health care within such an expensive system, public education in the face of bloated bureaucracy or such mundane things as organic peanut butter from China instead of the US. Your dedication to our living dilemmas is what I most love about your writing. That and your mother's joy over all that day-to-day stuff. I too love keeping the fridge stocked for hungry people.