Day 20,677 b

On the drive past Old Salem Days, a roadside sign made me grin. “Lemonade, Water & Puppies” Three little words that worked like a pocket spell for happiness. I could see it in my head, a shaded stand with cold cups sweating in the heat, tails wagging against ankles, and laughter drifting down the street like music. Sadly, when we went down the road to see, it had vanished like a tiny Brigadoon, not a trace to be seen.

The September sun leaned warm but not punishing, a light breeze tugging now and then. By the time we reached Old Salem Days (that takes place on only one day, by the way), the streets were already crowded, people moving in waves between booths, voices overlapping with the smell of food smoke and snazzy classic cars.

Somewhere along the way we started wondering what to call the folks who live in Salem. The idea that stuck was Salemanders. It feels like it belongs in a friendly folktale, part neighbor and part myth, carrying a spark of fire or a shimmer of magic in the pocket. A name that makes the town feel even more alive. (Unlike Salemite, Salemian or Salemster)

Current mood: playful
Current music: sunshine, rainbows, and lollipops

Day 20,677

A little chipmunk guest darted across the concrete slab of the back porch today, light as a windblown leaf. Quick pauses, then a flash of striped fur and whisker. He stopped to look at me just long enough to feel like a tiny greeting, then vanished into the rail shadow and back again. The slab must have seemed like a whole highway to him, every step a dash between doorways and hidden corners.


I like to think he’s mapping the place in his own way, drawing a small private atlas with his paws. For me, just a blink of company, but I’ll carry the visit for longer.


Current mood: settled
Current music: Chet Atkins – Mr. Sandman