August II (in September)

This year, August had so many rainy days that was easy to forget the sunny ones.

Which isn’t a bad thing. Rainy days aren’t doomed to be bad days. No need to assign value judgments. 

Especially because rainy days fill the well, the physical one from which we draw water for the house.

In theory, I want to have the flexibility of spirit to leave my desk and play outdoors on “nice weather” days and leave indoor tasks for “bad weather” days.

This summer, practice has shown me something different.

Sailboat Races!

I like my work, my indoor work, the writing stuff. I like it enough to miss being outdoors on sunny days—to skip the activities I could be doing—in favour of taking my last look at the interior of my forthcoming novel and then creating some draft marketing materials.

I like finishing things, and meeting deadlines, and always (always, always) trying to exceed expectations—others’ and my own.

It doesn’t feel like work. It feels like being myself.

I also feel like myself when I’m outdoors, doing things there.

I enjoy pulling overgrown beach peas to reveal the sand and rocks beneath. I even like trying to corral beach detritus into tidy piles to be moved to a heap, where they will eventually become soil. Of course I appreciate hanging out on the beach watching sailboat races.

Me in My Happy Place

And I had plenty of fun, too, while my sister was here. We walked to the neighborhood Little Free Library. We had Happy Hour on the deck. I even learned to light the gas grill (Canadian: barbecue) without shrieking, which makes grilling meat and vegetables a lot more fun.

It’s just that this now, this August, my inside tasks took priority, rain or shine. They won't always--each year is different, and I've known that since before the pandemic--and that will be OK too.