Sunday, July 29, 2012

Dog Days

We need to get through Dog Days of summer. I heard on the radio they really start in July until the first week in August. I don't know, but I have been feeling them. This morning, as I'm able to crack the window open, I feel the coolness that refreshes. I'm able to wake early today after a twelve hour sleep yesterday with a dragging spirit all day.
The storms and threats of storms kept me unmotivated as well as the rest of the family. David coughs, racking his chest. I'm frustrated but can't ask him to do anything. Around six, after we decided not to do anything, except Mary Ellen to a play in Greenville(which she did not want her mother tagging along), I grab my socks and sneakers to walk the dog. He watches me, until he fully realizes he is going for that wonderful walk. I pick up the leash. He practically falls down the stairs, then backs up to sit on the bottom step while I put on his lead. Oh, he is so grateful.
We walk at a fairly steady pace, as we went the evening before. Almost to the end of our road, a clear sky on one side and dark bank of clouds on the other, he is sniffing all the wet long grass and downed branches. The rain starts with the sun shining. "Oh, let it pass over."
We run to the park entrance and I crunch up beside a tree to keep dry. Surely this will pass, but no it starts harder and soon it is dark. I hear that thunder. Harrison is ready to race home. I call my husband, who quickly picks us up in the mini van. So much for the walk.
Later it is cool, with no clouds and a bright moon. But I have settled for the night. Harrison, too. I'm revising my story to submit to a contest and itching to look at the one I'm trying to finish. Mary Ellen returns home and I decide with Back to the Future blaring, I've lost the 1918 aura. Bedtime, as I want to leave early in the morning to hear the priest without a church from Sweden, who is preaching at a church in Youngstown, OH.
I woke readily this morning. We need rest and to struggle through the Dog Days. Oh, beautiful refreshing that comes when we endure.
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