Rain, Memorial Day, chaotic dreams, and taking the day as slowly as I can

There will come soft rains and the smell of the ground,/

...

And wild plum trees in tremulous white/

...

And not one will know of the war, not one
Will care at last when it is done

From Sara Teasdale, "There Will Come Soft Rains"

Memorial Day, and pouring rain. At least it's not that cold, but the pellet stove is still humming along--it's damp and uncomfortable. For years, when I was in high school, our band marched in parades, but more often, we just marched to cemeteries to honor the dead on Memorial Day. We had a very small band to begin with, and then people would not show up-- but I did. One year, I was up puking all night with food poisoning, but I went. That was the year that, when we figured out how few of us were there for the "parade," I marched beside a tuba and the drums. I played clarinet. No matter, though: we always had one talented trumpet player there to play taps from behind shrubbery. It was pretty moving, regardless. I have military members in my ancestry, but to my knowledge, no one fell in action (that's not to say that the experience didn't change them in permanent ways-- that's another story). Still, it's a blessing, to be sure, that they came home. I wonder what any of the fallen service members would think of our current state of things. I hope that their sacrifices are not resigned to the dustbin of history, while selfish people dismantle every single thing that they died to protect and preserve. Their shades should rise up and speak to the living, and I think, in some ways, they do. At least, in the memories of those who take our American Experiment seriously.

I hope to bake bread today. I was going to make a rhubarb pie and plant peas, but if it doesn't stop raining, it'll be a postponed project or two. No worries. I busted my backside yesterday getting chores and errands done, and frankly, I'm thoroughly enjoying not doing. I have my coffee and I'm still in pjs. And I have zero umph to do much else right now. 

So, the peas will likely wait til tomorrow, as will the pie. Bread baking would warm up the house, though. 

I haven't heard back from my publisher yet, but the final galley proofs are done, and I want to know when the book might be released. I've asked, but no response. I want to plan a book release party, but who knows when? Dates are filling up super fast. Ah well, not a real problem. Just a slight inconvenience. 

I'm hopeful I'll get inspired to read/write something today, other than this, of course. But maybe I won't. My brain is tired, and the chaotic dreams I've been having every night attest to a real need to dump some responsibilities and anxieties as soon as possible. In every dream, I'm in charge, and the situation is untenable. I'm left having to figure out solutions to ridiculous issues, with students around me, or family, or just plain people I don't even know but who are depending on me to figure stuff out. None of it earth-shatteringly important, but all of it confusing and somewhat odd. For once, it's not work stress. Or home stress. I think it's the pervasive dark cloud of angst that comes from reading the news. 

• Easy answer: don't.
• Uneasy answer: we need to stay informed. 
• No apparent answer: I can't fix any of it.

Thus, the dreams. 

So, I think I'll try to take today as it comes. If it remains quiet, so be it. If it involves family, so be it. If we get to put food on the grill, great. If not, I'll cook it inside. I have chicken drummies and kielbasa, so it could go whichever way it needs to. 

Hold your loved ones close to your heart. We are all we have.

C