Still, I expect rhythms and activities will begin to change in the coming weeks. We have two granddaughters in school now, so our visits will be arranged around their new schedules. . . I always feel excited about Fall and the changes it brings, but I also always feel most conscious of time slipping away as the days shorten. Some atavistic core in me counts out my life in summers, and another one is almost gone. . . .
As for Labour Day, now that I'm retired it's lost much of its immediate significance, although I have plenty of projects I'm working on. They don't feel much like labour, though, given their voluntary nature (although down in the gym, just before I wrote this post, sweating away on that mat, hefting those weights. . . . hmmm, that didn't feel so much like play). Even my mending I'm turning into fun, having taken that sashiko course this spring. I put it aside for the summer, but finally ordered more supplies last week. They arrived promptly from A Threaded Needle -- what fun it was to open that envelope pictured above. The thread and needles were tucked into that sweet little rabbit-printed bag along with freebies: the "Hand Made" label for stitching inside the next sweater I make for a grandchild, perhaps; a stamped, wooden button; and a postcard inviting me to the upcoming Knit City event here -- with handwritten greetings on postcard and on the tag to which button and label were stapled.
So I'll be celebrating my Not-Going-Back-to-Campus status today by mending some cashmere that a few moths have clearly laboured over. . . .
Happy Labour Day to those who are lucky enough for it to make a difference in your daily rhythm. A day that I'm very aware of my privilege indeed. . . . May workers everywhere have their labour honoured and may we make choices that ensure progress toward fair compensation for all that labour.