Loving Summer

I promise to make this short because one of my chief pleasures in life is sitting on my deck watching the leaves move and the sky and it is that time of day. I cannot believe that my work load has not decreased one iota since the beginning of spring...I am still trying every moment to stay caught up on the essentials and the other things are piling up around me.

But I will get to those piles because Mom is coming for my Aunt Lud's 100th birthday in September and you know you have to clean before your mom comes, even when she is 91 and really doesn't care if you do that or not. My piles are even more intense this week because I am going to be in the Parade! On Sunday! With a cart load of Jell-O Art and an outrageous outfit (if it works) and that spirit of the intensity of real fun. I can hardly wait. 

Every time the anxiety comes up I try to repeat the part about the fun. I so need it. I enjoy the Fair, and I love the Market, but those are work, tons of work, and it is hard to really feel loose and free. I anticipate feeling pretty loose riding my bike in the Parade. I plan to make it so engineered and foolproof that even I will have fun every minute. We'll see of course. I should be dusting my Jell-O pieces right now and of course I am not. Getting them on the cart and down Broadway might be way too much engineering but I am determined. And like the  Jell-O Art Show itself, the main objective is fun for all, so if things go a bit south, no one will notice, and certainly no one will care.

Working in the service of fun and love is what makes life successful. I'm dedicated to fitting that into the framework of working for money and survival. I was thrilled at Fair that no one talked politics. We walked into our world, the one we created together, where we love each other and are safe. I felt that so strongly there, immediately and lastingly. Even the harsher life/death parts are sweet there. Grieving at the Fair is always a part of it for me and I hope I can always take my grief there. Marko told me that the Empathy Booth is presently serving lots of grieving people. That's out there. Many of us are still traumatized and in shock with the current national scene and that doesn't seem to be avoidable, which makes me even more grateful for that respite.

And I have a rotten board to replace (only one, you ask?) on my booth out there, so I have to go out next week and do that, if I can somehow carve out a day. Going out to the Fair site always takes the whole day. There's a magic inability to leave or be efficient. I treasure it.

But Sunday, Sunday, is bigger than big and I need to get out there on that deck and at least eat dinner. I do not have time to eat anymore. I'm looking forward to that. And digging up my garlic. It's way too late to let it sit there in the ground.

So, so happy to report that all things Saturday Market are wonderful. Tuesday was the best of the season. Our new hires are fantastic. We are set to go into our best phase yet. The City Council got their update on the downtown programs today, and they are happy, and by the time they come back from break we will be ready to give our input, and we will be, in the meantime, working hard to keep our plates spinning and all of our options good ones. And the best part is that I no longer feel like I am doing it all by myself. I know, I wasn't, but it was oppressive and now it is not.

So this is it, short and sweet as a flat of blueberries. They might not last. This good feeling might not last. But today I will celebrate how good it feels, after so long of not being able to say that at all. See you in the Parade! I will be the one with the tsunami on my head.