Your Secret Blog

Before starting Thursday Chronicles, a blog with no theme except Thursday, I tried to come up with an actual topic.  Here are some of my rejected ideas:

• "Mikrokosmos" - little things about piano teaching, music and life in general
• "The Boychoir Blog" - about St. Columba's Boychoir
• "The 2:00 Journal" - whatever I was doing at 2:00 each day

What blogs have YOU secretly been wanting to start?

simple pleasures

morning newspaper

coffee with little bubbles

the sound of birdsong

breakfast on the porch

yogurt in a chinese bowl

cicadas humming

Ironing Day

I was thrilled, at the age of ten, when my mother taught me how to iron.  The summer after 4th grade we specialized in pillowcases and handkerchiefs.  Not only did I enjoy smoothing out the wrinkles, but I loved being able to handle the dangerous object.  One false move and I might burn the house down!  I'd go to the cool basement and enjoy a summer afternoon alone drinking strawberry pop and ironing.  This odd joy has never left me.

Before contacting me with all of your pressing needs, I should explain a few things:

• I don't iron men's clothing.
• I'm not actually very good at ironing, so complicated things like shirts or pants are risky.
• My favorite thing to iron is a small tablecloth.  Preferably a beautiful vintage one.

I always wait for The Perfect Ironing Moment.  The house will be mine alone.  I will be well-rested and recently fed.  I used to put on special ironing music (the Brahms Piano Quintet in F Minor), but these days I prefer the simple sound of the spray bottle.

A couple of major shifts in my ironing habits have occurred this year.  The old iron, which I've used for 20 years, died.  I had to put it in the trash!  The new one is sea blue and harmonizes with the New and Improved Ironing Location.

The Reiki Healing Space now doubles as The Center for Contemplative Ironing.  Wrinkles smooth out more peacefully than ever.  Fabrics are soaked in healing energy.  The practitioner works to the soothing sound of bird call and squirt bottle.

July 101

It's 101 degrees outside.

Pat and I went to the (air conditioned) National Gallery of Art.  A pity that I need a visitor from out of town to discover how close I live to A Girl with a Watering-Can and a Girl with a Hoop.

The grass outside is dry and brown, and The Olive Orchard makes me feel hot.

Two favorites bring cool relief.

How are you keeping cool?

Rabbit, Rabbit

All these years waking up in bed together and remembering at the first of each month to say Rabbit Rabbit.  (usually)

I know we did this 30 years ago (that would be 360 double rabbits) when I took German at Hartford College for Women.  The Professorin had no idea what I was trying to communicate in my essay, "Kaninchen Kaninchen."  Explained in English, she still couldn't understand.

Now each month I think about time passing.  "It's July already?"  December will be here soon.  David is 17 and thinking about moving away.  Colleges in Virginia are too close.  He wants something further.  The skin on my arm is wrinkled and sagging.  Not really a big deal, but months come and go so quickly, reminding me we're only here for a little while.