This day before the solstice is lovely, bright and cool and I feel restless in my office, its windows blocked by scaffolding. Summer days at work make me restless. I want a last day of school, a leaving behind of dusty and dim corridors, a sense of summer stretching on and on, not a day yet wasted. I recall that first afternoon of freedom — for my children on their last days of school and for myself, so long ago.
I feel as if I should be doing something like this.
