Once more it is June. Again. And again I embark upon that epic effort of daily blogging, take three, wherein I call upon myself for a kind of rambling focus, picking from a list of daily topics, and with neither planning nor advance writing, strive to pepper this blog with the free-thought, free-writing wonder that is another one of Those 30 Posts in June. Today, that post just happens to be:
June 9th // Something You Have Heard
I had a list of things I thought I might write here today, then I read the post I wrote two years ago. Two years ago I wrote this: “I’m thinking, pretending, assuming, skipping-the-caring-bit-and-just-telling-you what you want to read here is perhaps a snapshot of the many different things I’ve heard over the course of today, as weirdly random as that might be. Care or not, it fulfills my daily blog obligations.”
- my daughter, reading me a storybook at six in the morning, while I –barely awake– stuffed my head into a pillow and tried to ignore her for at least another thirty minutes
- huff, puffs, and a mixed bag of complaining, exclaiming, and proclaiming (of victories) along a twenty-three kilometer morning run with my group
- bagpipes, as that same group ran through a park where eight men in kilts were playing, oddly, randomly, and without further explanation
- the chanting of kids yelling my name to “push them” on the swings, spinny-things, and other places as I took Claire and her two cousins to the playground afer lunch
- the chime of my text message notification as I recieved a disproportionatly high number of texts today
- the patter of rain drops on the sidewalk and my shirt as we dashed from the car to the gates of our show
- the high-decible, engergetic rock-crush stylings of the Amaluna soundtrack performed live under the big top as we attended the Cirque du Soliel show of the same name
- a lot of giggling as I entertained my niece on the way home from the circus
- almost ten minutes of perfect, akward silence as I drove the babysitter home
- the hum of the traffic carried over the evening air from the distant highway as I sit in my living room with windows open, feeling the cool breeze, and writing this post.
And probably a thousand more things that didn’t make quite as much of an impression.