August, a month of Sundays


About this time, in despairing Eeyore fashion, I begin to mentally catalogue all the things we never did or didn’t do enough of or did too much at the expense of something new & exciting, or don’t have enough time remaining to do again, and in particular all the ways that I myself was not enough and now have no hope to be until another summer (or grandchildren) depending on whether I’m grieving school starting or the family chapter of life swiftly coming to a close.

The thing I like about Pooh is that he and everyone else in the Hundred Acre Wood lets Eeyore be Eeyore.

And who knows, by tomorrow I could be Rabbit or Christopher Robin, and before the week ends—Tigger!

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