Show in the air.

The plane, the plane!! Boss, the plane!! Remember that? Fantasy Island? It’s the weekend of the Air & Water Show. Lots of noise in the sky.

Ummm, so, whatever. What else? Mid August and the air is cool and clear. Chicago, as it turns out, has pretty good weather all told. We had some really hot days but nothing too too terrible. The cicadas are busy this morning. The regular cicadas. The usual suspects. Not the hundred year cicadas. Or whatever it was. I didn’t see or hear any of those other ones.

I ventured on to Facebook for the first time in months. Mostly I wanted to see about a friend that had been quite ill. Then I got caught up in scrolling and scrolling. Then one of those cooking reels, then time passed and the only thing that shook me away was my arm fell asleep from holding the phone for so long. Crack!! It’s crack and everyone is addicted. I’m going cold turkey again. It’s the only way. Break the pipe.

So, the coffee is good. Puzzles are worked. Some “news” is read. I’m going out to the beach where I will pick up trash and maybe some treasure. That trash problem has been under my skin all season. There are some guys out there that leave beer bottles and cans just…wherever!! It’s astonishing!! Then there’s baby diapers and those juicy packets with the sippy straws and small bags that chips and such come in. There are also plenty of bins. When did we become so lazy that we can’t walk to a bin?

I tried to tell some guys drinking Corona from glass bottles not to leave the empties on the sand. They just laughed at me. Then on my way back the other way there they were standing in the water with their beers. The whole shoreline was littered with empties!! I picked up what I could see, what I could carry. The lifeguards said they don’t listen. There’s broken glass everywhere. It’s not just a few people. It’s unbelievable and so disturbing.

I did write to the main park district office suggesting that they post some signs in Spanish. We have a lot of new neighbors that may not know the rules?

There’s me pretending to be nice when I’m seething with disgust.

Mostly though, I am incredibly grateful. To be alive and sober. For a strong cup of coffee. For this morning in this place. For the beach and the park and the cicadas. For a little work. For my students who are my teachers.