If you must know, and I do believe that some people are wondering after reading my blog from last night, I did miss the meteor shower. I fell fast asleep with Eugene stretched across my lap in my chair, and woke up after the show. Isn’t that how it always is?
This morning, I rose with the sound of the baby birds, and watched as a fat, rusty bellied robin pulled a worm from the damp earth and fled to his nest. I headed downtown, which during business hours is a bustling hamlet of people walking to and from the different mom and pop shops, taking a break in the Adirondack chairs in front of our shop, licking a cone and watching their children play. Or grabbing a cocktail down the street on the patio, tired feet propped up on the opposite chair, the bounty of colorful bags with all their goodies at their side.
But in the dawn of the day, there are only the squirrels to watch as they cross the street in front of me, and the dog walkers with heavy bags of poop swinging from their fists, their pooches happily trotting beside them.
With the business of the day finished by 7:30, Eugene and I are going to a Doodle Romp nearby, where other goldendoodles from his breeder will be romping and we owners who feel like family, will chat in the lovely sunny day. Temps due to be just right for a romp.
Hubby will begin checking off the 27 items on his list, and I will come home and we will go to Lowe’s Garden Center because they simply have the hardiest plants, and we will choose some to put in our gardens, and we’ll buy mushroom mulch, and it will get under my finger nails and fill my nostrils with that musky scent as I spread it over the earth. My knees will be imprinted by the grass, and my shoulders and nose will get pink, and just as the dampness of dusk falls, we’ll be watering our new flowers and shrubs (while that fat robin from the morning takes a shower in the spray) and wishing for them to grow and be strong enough to survive another winter three seasons ahead.
I hope for you on this Memorial Day weekend a long bike ride in the setting sun with someone you love, a cool drink on the patio, worship in a church with its windows flung open and the music and prayers floating out into the sky up to the heavens, the chance to fight a fat, shiny fish on the lake, and a fire at night with the stars staying put in the sky.
But mostly, I hope that you will remember our service men and women past and present who by their sacrifice we live in freedom. I hope you will remember them in prayer, with pride, and remember those who love them as we all sleep under the same stars knowing because of them we are safe.