I sometimes think of August as ‘a month of Sundays’. Not in the traditional, idiomatic sense, I suppose, since ‘a month of Sundays’ usually refers to the unlikelihood of something occurring. And August occurs, of course, and annually. Instead, I think of it in the ‘Sunday is the day of rest’ sort of way.
So August is my ‘month of Sundays’.
A month of days of rest.
The calm before the ‘back-to-school’ storm.
The last of the summer hurrahs.
This August will be like many others we’ve spent in recent years. Seeing the official close of lacrosse season and the final performances at drama and Shakespeare camps. Dinners with friends of grilled burgers and watermelon salad. Dripping popcicles and an ice-cube chasing puppy. Swimming at the club and sailing at the lake. And reading and reading and reading.
Lots of lazy days full of indulgent activities. We will buy school supplies in a leisurely manner. Try on shoes and trousers and oxford-cloth shirts. Schedule haircuts and dentist appointments and important messing about with friends. We will clean out closets and reassess the contents of the pantry. We will do everything and nothing at all. Because it’s all about the loafing; for having enough time for things.
So if I’m here less frequently, that’s why.
It’s August and I’m loafing. And enjoying ‘a month of Sundays’.