Stinky pants

Today was the day I would be going to the annual Day in the Park to sign kids up for my library's summer reading program. It gathers many, many people and it isn't my favorite part of my job, but I do it every year. The alternative site if rain should occur was the local armory. It did rain. I left my house in the rain to smell something I had smelled before, in both libraries and on subways cars. It's the smell of damp, moldy clothes. At first I thought it was my hands, since I had been holding the dog's leashes, but it wasn't that. I drove on to work, sniffing my jacket, shirt and then pants. Bingo! Apparently my pants were not quite dried when they were folded and put away (obviously I was being a crap housemaker that day). I was too far from home to turn around, and so I spent the day in stinky pants, in a crowded and steamy armory.

I decided there that I really wish people would just try. I really respect people who make an effort in life, even if they aren't educated, don't have lots of money, or if they have both but have no time. I sometimes find myself resenting class, wishing people could imagine themselves in the place of others. Lots of people come to today's event because it is free and something to do. That happens a lot everywhere, but in Maine more so because of the rural population and the lack of things happening. I had been bemoaning the fact that I was there today, when a mom told me how important it was for me to be there. I agree with that. Sometimes I just get all milquetoasty.

Sometimes I miss the life of clubs, and pizza at 2. I miss live music, and fantastic authors at the BPL. Life here takes effort, and I don't mind that at all.