From Saturday at home:
The end of another school year is here.
After Commencement Saturday, I spent the afternoon cleaning, mowing, scrubbing the dirt and pollen from the front porch, and generally being spring-clean productive. Tasks deferred for weeks were on the day’s agenda, and continue to be for a few more days.
Busy semesters come screeching to a sudden halt. We finish classes, start juries and finals, and then suddenly I’m putting on full regalia for a commencement ceremony. Hugs, a few tears, scores of smiles, kind words . . . And then silence.
The cycle is ever the same, and ever new.
Meanwhile, in my own little neighborhood, the folks in the house immediately north of me are moving out, and the landlord is moving in. And the house to the south of me sold last week, with the new young couple moving in directly (he’s in the M.D./Ph.D. program at Washington University, so they’ll be here for a while).
Things change at home too.
I’ve finished my ninth year at Webster University. We’ve added eight new members to the full-time faculty in that time. This year we programmed and hosted 178 events in total. We’ve mourned one death and celebrated five retirements over the last nine years. And we’ve educated hundreds of music majors, and introduced two new degree programs to the mix.
And now summer begins. I have stacks of books to read. A bit less travel to do than in some other summers. Sunny mornings and long evenings to enjoy. Two shows to in (June and August). Three days a week at the office, at most. At least 20 cultural events on my agenda this summer here in the area.
And a cute dog to love on.
The week has been a blur.
I’m rehearsing a show at New Line. We are in the last two weeks of performances at Webster University. I’m teaching an extra class this last eight-week term. I taught seven voice lessons yesterday. &c.
Last evening, at 9 p.m. after finishing my last lesson, Auggie and I drove to the grocer’s to find him some dog food. We were out.
And in the garden, an iris is open, and this morning I find a peony in bloom — booth of them several weeks early on any normal gardening schedule. The lilacs have bloomed and faded already, again weeks in advance.
I shan’t bemoan beauty, but I shall bemoan the changing of our climates.