O summer, where art thou? Drowned, I guess.

August is typically a relatively slow month, until it's not. There's usually warm days, cooler evenings, crickets, a few last dips in the pool, harvesting veggies and prepping for more ordered days at the end of the month. 

Not so this year. It's raining yet again. My pool cover is fully swamped, and it'll take a near-miracle for the water to ever warm up again. I've had a few cucumbers and small tomatoes, but no other veggies from my sodden garden. The days are in the 60s. The long-range forecast promises a little reprieve, and maybe a few pool days in a week or so. The only consistent thing is the school prep; I got two Google Classrooms fully uploaded yesterday, the book we had to read for professional development is done, and next up-- the plan book. I'm digging in my heels--that can wait. And the required online modules about blood-borne pathogens and bullying can wait; they are the same ones we do every single year. 

I'm going to try to wedge in a few "fun" things, but time is running out. Meg and I, along with her SIL, are planning to take Holly to the fair at the end of the month to see the animals. I want one day with G that is just for us; we'll see how that goes. I'm supposed to meet a poet-friend for dinner this week, if it ever stops raining long enough--she wants to eat outside, as she will be bringing her doggo. 

Instead of bemoaning what can't be, what hasn't happened, etc., I am really trying to enjoy every day as it comes. I just wish it wasn't so darn damp. Wait for it-- September will be gorgeous. G says he'll leave the pool up, but we'll see how that goes.

Stay dry,

C