We slipped quietly into July.
Tuesday: last day of home-school.
Wednesday: first day of home-holidays.
We marked it with a chippy.
I’m wondering how to mark the weeks ahead? How to upgrade them. How to turn another day into a holiday.
We are not going to Switzerland. We are going to the park, again. It’s disappointing.
I’m keeping an eye on my tree climbing daughters when a passer-by nods approvingly, says “I didn’t think kids did that anymore”. It makes me feel good. It’s not Switzerland, but it’s something.
Later my daughters start rescuing sticks, fake-panicking that the sticks are dying. They yell out symptoms, make diagnoses, rush them to surgery. There is space for this, in these days we aren’t sure how to fill.
We visit the cygnets and find them with their mother. They have grown a bit. We consider whether or not they deserve to be called “ugly ducklings” and decide they do not.
We slipped quietly into July and I have been reflecting on June. I have been sitting with these questions:
Where did I see God in June? What’s one thing I’ve learned? What is the best thing that could happen in July?
It’s another way of marking the calendar turn, I suppose. It’s a way to close and a way to open. To pay attention.
It rained hard today and there was no tree-climbing or stick-surgery or cygnet-spotting.
There were pancakes and baths and, in a minute, early nights.
There were things, today, that marked it as Sunday for us. I love these things.
The school holidays stretch before us. They do not need upgraded.
Let’s look for sticks and for God and may we be blessed with the occasional nod of approval.