Last week I was surprised by the joy of August. I was standing by the sink eating a peach. The peach had been picked the day before ripe from the tree. The juice was running down my chin and arm. It tasted fabulous. All of a sudden it felt like August was embodied in that peach; summer so packed full of simple pleasures that it was running over.
This August I’ve loved going for a run and grabbing blackberries off the bushes outside our house while I stretch. The kettle corn at the fair tasted sweeter this year. I thoroughly enjoyed that darkness doesn’t come until its time for bed. I loved Portland to Coast; bonding with girlfriends in the middle of the night in the middle of nowhere. I loved swimming with my family. My husband made an incredible saffron shrimp and rice dinner. We had lettuce wraps again. A friend made fried green tomatoes. My daughter went to the dentist and didn’t have any cavities. Little pleasures. Running over.
My daughter and I read Black Beauty together. It took us most of the month to finish. We both cried at the end. She said “poor little guy. I’m so glad he ended up happy”. I feel a little bit like the horse. I think partly it’s been such a great month because all the depressant effects of INH medicine have worn off. I feel like I shook off some lead weights and ended up happy. Woo Hoo. Yea for August.