The crape myrtle in my mind

And just like that, everything is fine again. I was finally able to apologize to the second person involved in last week’s stupid stupidity, and he accepted my apology with great generosity and grace, and I feel much better. 

I’m at a Wednesday night swim meet. Having arrived late from work, I missed my son’s races, but I’m here to watch and cheer and do absolutely nothing else. I was going to work on the next long-ass weekly email, or maybe write some paper plate awards, or do some other damn thing but I’m just going to sit here on the deck and watch the backstroke flags wave gently in the breeze, and listen to the starter and watch some summer swimming. 

*****

It's a few days later now. It's actually the 4th of July. No further comment about the 4th of July except that it feels different but it also feels the same. It feels long weekendish and lazy and peak summery, like summer is just starting but also fast slipping away. The crape myrtle trees are already beginning to bloom. Once the crape myrtle appears, summer is on the clock. 

And I'm trying not to let it get away too fast. The news is always bad and there's always something to do. Always so much to do. But not everything that needs to be done needs to be done right now. It's a summer holiday. So I’m going to sit in a chair and read a book. Then I’m going to swim just for fun without counting laps: without even getting into a lap lane. Later, I will eat some ice cream and not worry about how to offset the calories because it's the 4th of July and I want a hamburger AND ice cream. I’m looking at the crape myrtle in bloom and not thinking about how soon July will be over followed by August followed by the end of summer. There’s plenty of time for the to-do list; plenty of time for me to compulsively do all of the things that need doing. Just not today.