I chose to be busy this summer. All that sounded SO exciting in April is now all around me, making me tired.
I chose 2 to 3 days each week to guide groups of 8 to 15 year olds, making foods from Syria or Brazil or foods from the Southwest or East Coast of this country. On another 1 to 2 days each week, groups of 7 to 9 year olds and I imagine we’re making foods at a campsite, using much foil, wielding tongs, eating with fingers. Further still, I added groups to my own Tiny Kitchen, making Empanadas, Enchiladas, and Ice Cream Treats. Five menus, five timelines, five class flows rotating the days of the week, wild card additions, plus planning & testing for Fall & Winter & Random Classes that will be in between.
Though my brain pegs full, I am still Mother, Laundress, Accountant, Chauffeur, Gardener, Wife, and Cook. I am the Finder, the Organizer, the Cleaner, the Buyer, all of which must go on, positions I didn’t think would need temporary assistance, but I broke. Sort of. Saturday night.
If you’ve read Beatrice Potter, you might be familiar with The Tale of Mrs. Tittlemouse. The protagonist is a busy creature, obsessed with footprint-free floors, bee-free rooms, and guests who are careful not to leave a soggy signature. Saturday I chose not to be that Mouse. In very indelicate fashion, I made proclamations to my family, the details of which aren’t Need To Know. Saturday ended and Sunday began, a better day, mostly.
Then there was this morning. Sunny, quiet, alone at the patio table, listening to the sprinkler’s spitting rhythms, watching the chickens forage, shelling the just-discovered-in-the-produce-drawer garden peas, waiting to remove the oven’s bread.
Peace. Center. Calm. Beauty.
This morning I saw what, for me, cannot be disregarded or abandoned. This is what puts me back together, what makes me happy, what gives me something to give. This space outside, the repetition of movement & sound, the green & blue & gold, it lifted everything, even giving space for words to circle and gather. How fortunate am I to be and breathe, to have this luxury, this peace.
I will continue my summer. Continue with the busy-I love what I do! But I will make time on the patio, give myself early morning moments, moments before the day gets warm, before the chickens get chatty, just me and the light, the trees, the sky and my garden.