It’s a good day.
Most days I try to say that, even the ones when I’m not quite sure it’s the truth.
I mean, if things look a little shaky, I might say, “It’s a great day to be alive.”
Hard to argue with that one, unless things are really dire. Even then, the worst thing I’m liable to say when the clouds in my world are thick and dark is, “You know...some days are better than others.”
It’s not that my outlook is always sunny, it’s just that most people are carrying a bigger load than you’d expect, and I don’t see much point in adding to it.
But even by my relaxed standards, it’s a good day. First of all, it rained.
Rain really isn’t my problem – everything I have that needs water can be reached by a garden hose, but as long as I live, I doubt I’ll stop watching the clouds and counting the days from the last rain. The weather has always been so important, and so unreliable. When our son was in the Marine Corps, he was stationed in southern California. He’d walk out the door of the barracks and comment on the beautiful morning, only to have everyone stare at him puzzled, because almost every day was beautiful. If they’d grown up where he grew up, they’d have understood.
Plus, what a perfect rain. In about ten hours, we got almost three inches and by morning most of the puddles had already soaked away. It was the kind of storm we rarely have this time of year. I know it’s going to be a challenging year for farmers, but in our part of the world, Mother Nature has certainly done her part.
Then on Sunday, we had Number Five’s birthday party. Most of the family made it home to eat a Sunday dinner based on his menu requests texted to my wife. He’s the baby of the family and just turned twelve, which seems impossible. There’s just something about sitting at a long table with a burly young man and everyone smiling at him had carried him on their hip when he was much smaller. I can’t quite explain it, but I know it when I see it.
Finally, I got the proofs for my new book. It looks good, and any day now I’m looking forward to getting the real thing in my hand. It’s always the cause for some anxiety when you hand off a project to a bunch of people you don’t know, hoping they’ll understand your vision and do it justice. So many decisions need to be made when a book is published, from the cover design to the font, and they all matter. To add to the butterflies, this is the second book of a story that’s been rattling around in my head for almost twenty-five years. It’s really important to me, and I fervently hope people read it.
It’s Monday evening, the skies are sunny and a soft wind is blowing. The crops are growing like wildfire since the rain, Number Five is home, a year older, and wrapping up his baseball season, and I’m waiting for a box of books to arrive in the mail with all the decisions made and nothing but potential ahead.
I’m not an idiot. My life isn’t all kittens and rainbows, just like everyone else’s. But today? Today is a good day.
Copyright 2026 Brent Olson
A Good Day...
