Things to do

At school I was always busy; rather, I should have always been busy. There was always plenty to busy myself with.
Here, I could easily, too easily, do absolutely nothing. Starting in a week, approximately, that will change. I hope.
I wonder if I'm perky enough to be a good waitress. I shall imitate Kara. Actually, I should imitate Evan, if I were to imitate anyone. Ah well.
I begin writing again tomorrow. And I have been working on my summer reading list. This is by no means all of it. Feel free to suggest others.

• The Count of Monte Cristo
• A Tale of Two Cities
• Blue Like Jazz
• The Great Divorce ( and all things Lewis)
• The Man Who Was Thursday (and all things Chesterton)
• Gone With the Wind (this is only because I love Kara)
• Uncle Tom's Cabin (because I lied to someone once about reading it...I forget whom...)
• The Princess Bride (because I love the movie)
• and I want to finish Winston Churchill's histories of WWII. I am in the midst of Triumph and Tragedy now.

So I am looking forward to the remainder of summer. I have also other things lined up to keep myself out of mischief. Wish me well with that.

My little brother, the Space Cadet, to my mother, on Mom's proposing summer-camp-style classes for him and Littlest Sister :
"But, Mom, when you daydream all day you aren't bored!"

I looked out of the plane window this afternoon and laughed for memory of the treeless plain that is Oklahoma. Pah.

I swear I will not lose it.
The danger of summer break is that I slip back into old habits as easily as I slip into the top bunk in my old bedroom.
But I have gained too much ground this year to simply retreat. Summer is not going to be a retreat. Nor will it be a stagnation. Indeed, let it be known here and now that I will not let go. It would be so easy to just crawl back into the old mold. But I don't fit there anymore; I don't want to fit there anymore. All it requires is a bit of exertion on my part.
Goodbye, Colleen.

I just realized the beauty of coming back to New England in May. I get two springtimes. In Tulsa springtime was waning: here it is just coming into fullness. The azaleas are out and the lilac tree is heavy-scented. The dogwood smiles pinkly, and the lilies of the valley wait to be sought out. The wild plum is through blooming, but the Japanese maple is still dark and burgundy.
I took a walk when I got home. This is the most beautiful place in the world. The road winds over hills and trees crowd the sides and push back the sky.

I am going to go read Calvin and Hobbes. Then I shall sleep the sleep of the blessed and the weary.