The miracle is not that we do the work, but that we are happy to do it.
Today is Labor Day. The last official day of traditional summer. Like we noted on Friday we still have a couple of weeks until it’s actually autumn.
Tell that to my calendar. Or your calendar.
You do you.
Today the swimming pools close, traditionally the amusement parks shift their hours. Granted, nothing has been traditional for the last eighteen months.
I grew up with school starting the day after Labor Day. Although somewhere in the back of my mind there’s the idea that we started on the Thursday before. Regardless, it was always around Labor Day weekend.
We managed to be out by the first week of June.
Even with making up snow days. And there was that one year that we actually went to school on a Saturday,
not because of snow, but because of spring flooding.
Since our boys were in school, and now that my wife is teaching, school has always ended around the middle of June. So, I’m not quite sure why it took starting two weeks earlier to get out the first week.
I don’t do math. I took my last math class when Richard Nixon was still in the White House. But I’m certain we were still out by the beginning of June.
All that being considered we’ve now officially hit the busy season.
College football is back. Go Hokies!
Traditionally, Labor Day has been the start of the campaign season with candidates appearing in Labor Day parades. Thanks to 24/7 news and the internet, there’s no longer a start of the campaign season. It’s always campaign season. Especially in Virginia where we have an election every year.
Around the homestead, the wife is back to teaching, both boys are in school and working.
I’m still working from home, writing on this blog, learning lines for an upcoming project, and booking my Santa season.
No, it’s not too early for Santa to be thinking about Christmas.
I haven’t turned the Christmas music on yet. But I’ve watched a few Christmas movies.
Santa’s work is never done.
For years, today would be the day that I spent every last available minute at the swimming pool. We no longer have a neighborhood pool, but I sort of miss those days.
Instead today will be a day of preparing, of moving forward. And that’s okay.
After the last forty-seven months of house arrest, today almost seems normal.
I like that.