I no longer think of my pond as just a pond. It has become the hot spot for wildlife copulation. If it's not the frogs, it's the snakes and now the fish have joined in the fun.
First they zip around with the poor female being either sandwiched against the side of the pond or between the two randy males. This goes on for the greater portion of the day. Once they stop splashing about, they retreat to the bottom of the pond.
I can't say that I blame them because the top of the pond looks as if it's had soap poured into it.
The last field trip of the school year - again: can I have a hallelujah?
Off we went to the Chain of Lakes park for kite flying and picnicking. I was worried all night long that there wouldn't be enough kites; there wouldn't be sufficient wind, but as it always is, the things we worry the most about never happen.
It was a perfect day: overcast and not too humid, and all the kids had the opportunity to fly kites.
I cannot seem to make myself turn that page on the calender. It's as if by turning the page I close the chapter on my mother's death and I am not able to do that. I'm not ready. It's as if there was my life before March 31st and there is my life after March 31st. The clock keeps ticking and the pages keep turning, but I am trapped in the limbo between then and now.
I look back at a time that was happier and more carefree. A time when everything was funnier and lighter. I know things will get better and a time will come when there is more laughter in the day. I know that to get there the clock will have to keep ticking and the pages will have to keep turning, but for now I'm not turning that page.