I'm beginning to realize just how fast summer is going by. This thought crossed my mind tonight (not that it hasn't before) as my husband and I drove home from dinner at the Douglas Lodge. As we drove past hills, valleys, the Mississippi, through the dips and arcs of the landscape I started thinking about all the reading I want to do in preparation of this fall's class. I like the idea of being prepared. An idealistic, but worthwhile concept... in theory. But soon the summer will be over. We have an appointment with the realator this week to figure out the market value of our house. We'll have it up for sale within the next couple days. 2nd session of summer school begins Tuesday. Then in August I have an art show in Mnpls. and a 10 day trip to Banff (Canadian Rockies) with my sister and her family as nanny/auntie. Then it will (hopefully) be time to find a new place to live and move if the house sells quickly. There is it. My summer come and gone in a nutshell.
And I'd be sad that it's going so quickly. But in a way I guess I'm not. It's been a fucked up, hard, long summer already. Tonight coming home we drove past a place that has rusty old, but classic trucks parked in a field with a homemade "for sale" sign. I cried when we drove past because I always wanted the red flatbed truck. For me and my old dog Abe. I used to dream long dreams of getting that truck and spending whole days driving down country roads together with the windows down, just me and him. I miss that dog so damn much, there aren't even words.