It’s the last day to read all morning, tiptoeing back to bed with my giant mug of Starbucks, crawling in between the two kitties who look most indignant at being disturbed.
It’s the last day to open my All-New Nook, light as a feather though it contains 187 books five of which are novellas for Frances‘ Novella Challenge. I’m halfway through Mary Shelley’s Mathilda, enjoying every word as I’ve only previously met Frankenstein.
It’s the last day to be free of meetings, bells, announcements, and last minute races to the washroom because it’ll be five hours before one can go there again. The children will come racing through the halls, just as they race out again at 3:35, and teachers on duty will be saying, “Good morning! Slow down. Walk, please,” as though it’s a mantra.
It’s been a good summer, filled with such treats as crab cakes and basmati rice, chocolate malts, and coffees at McDonald’s. It’s held a bicycle ride almost four times a week, a make-up lesson at Chanel, and several movies. (My favorite? Going to the latest Pirate movie with my son, late, late at night.) It’s had a wedding and a funeral to remind me that life begins and ends, just as the cycle of school years and summers that have been my life.
Most people begin New Year’s on January 1. For me, it’s the first day of school. I’m looking forward to meeting those dear children. They’re the best part of a bad bureaucracy, and the only worthwhile reason I can think of for getting up so early every morning until next summer.