merry-go-round

So it's July all over again. Because this year the Fourth falls so inconveniently in the middle of the week, all the usual events have been rescheduled and everything in town is happening this weekend. A virtual Independence Day, though to satisfy the traditionalists, they're going to have to do the fireworks on Wednesday night too. Everything is just the same as it's always been and the town and the coffeeshop are crowded with tourists.

I buy strawberries and lettuce at the famers' market. I look at the bunting on every window of the courthouse. I wander through the empty carnival grounds taking pictures. Everywhere I go, I can almost catch a glimpse of last summer's self, who couldn't stop talking and smiled at every little girl in a sundress.

This July, in some ways, my mother's house looks just the way I imagined it would. There are baby toys in the back room and a crib in one of the spare bedrooms. My mother's sewing machine is out on the counter. I ask her what she's making. "I'm making curtains for.... I'm making curtains," she says. Then she starts telling me how they've replaced every lightbulb in the house with the new compact florescents and how much they're saving on the electric bill. I take a few more strawberries out of the box and pinch off the leaves. We both know what she was going to say.