A Most Favorite Day

Is this really true?

Coffee ice cream and reading?

Joy shivers casacade!

It is true. Today is the celebration of National Coffee Ice Cream Day AND National Read a Book Day.

We are encouraged to enjoy coffee ice cream. Reading is urged, all day long if we must, aloud to dogs, children, random people or silently to ourselves. It makes no difference as long as we read. What’s more, no officicous organization is behind either joy, whether to pontificate, explain, or ask for money. We can please ourselves.

Peaceful bliss is good because September 7 is jampacked: National Grateful Patient Day; National New Hampshire Day; National Beer Lover’s Day; National Grandma Moses Day; National Neither Rain Nor Snow (to commemorate a New York City post office); National Acorn Squash Day; and, last but not least, National Salami Day.

Ideas abound for righteous honoring: guzzling beer, downing bowls of salami-studded acorn squash while gazing at Granda Moses art, wondering if she ever painted in New Hampshire, thinking about how old post offices resurrect into other purposes so well, and texting a nurse friend.

However, today must be given its proper attention. Eat ice cream while reading a book.

Wait a minute, I already do that. Did I need someone to tell me that it was sanctioned, never mind encouraged and celebrated (and write a check to an earnest, worthy organization)?

When I tell my husband about all the fun to come tomorrow, he suggests gently that my little obsession has gone too far. Let’s watch the Yankee game, he offers. During a commercial break, he wonders out loud if it might be time to stop tracking National days.

I put down my bowl of coffee ice cream. You might have a point, I admit, turning the page in my book. Tomorrow is going to be ridiculous and horrible.

Who comes up with this stuff anyway, he asks. It depends on the day, I tell him. Plenty of times it’s random, no one takes responsibility.

All days are random, he says. Especially the ones with big names and expectations. They are what you make them.

I’m a writer. I make stuff up. I also tell the truest stories that I can. Often these are the same thing.

Tomorrow is my inaugural celebration of writing stories, reading books, and drinking coffee. Wait a minute, it can be the week, the month, the year….years, decades, a lifetime…many lifetimes….My dog interrupts, adds rub your dog’s head and take a long walk and hang out on the front terrace.

Glorious bliss!

I know what I’m going to celebrate and I don’t have to check the calendar to know what to do.

*Feels like a National Day of celebration starting to take form…