Twenty days, less than three weeks, Monday felt like a Monday. Summer vacation seems like a perpetual weekend, almost like Groundhog Day or the book I read earlier this summer, 11 Birthdays, where the day is repeated over, and over, again. It’s not quite like that but there is no break in the week and if I am not careful the line between one day and another blurs.
There is a difference between the weekend and the week here, the lake is much calmer, there are fewer boats, and there are fewer people along the lakeshore, but for me there is little difference.
Sunday had been a late night watching the Olympics and Monday night would likely be no different. Continue reading Monday night summer storm