We have another day which can’t quite make up its mind. For a while it’s sunny then the clouds take over then comes the sun for another turn. Right now we have sun. Today is remove the screen from the back storm door day, always a painful chore. It means I have thrown in the towel and recognized that cold nights are here and won’t be going away. I do the back door first because it’s always open so Gracie can come and go as she pleases through her dog door. During the day it’s not too chilly, but at night, I can feel the cold air making its way down the hall to me. It’s time.

After a trip, I have a sense of wanderlust which takes a while to disappear; well, actually it never disappears: it just gets bearable. Sometimes, of late, I find myself on-line looking for cheap flights anywhere. I don’t ever remember getting there. It’s as if something took hold of me, a possession of sorts needing an exorcism.

My neighbor is mowing his lawn. He’s wearing a sweatshirt, jeans and a baseball cap. I think he’s a barometer of sorts.

I remember staring out the classroom windows even though it was frowned upon as an indicator of a lack of attention. There was never much to see out those windows, but they represented a sort of freedom I no longer had. On the lower floor, I could see the street in front of the school. I’d watch for cars to drive by. If I had a room in the back, I’d only see the empty playground and ached to be there. On the top floor, it was the sky I’d see, and I’d watch the clouds drifting and swirling and sometimes forming animals as they moved. When it rained, I’d see the drops hitting the windows, and I’d follow one as it slid down and disappeared.

When it rained, the class seemed quiet, subdued, and the room was always a bit dark even with the lights on. Sometimes the rain and pencils writing on paper were the only sounds. A rainy day was my favorite school day.