Where will Sylvia be next?

I had several returning shoppers stop by, along with plenty of new friends discovering me for the first time. One of my favorite conversations was with Tina, the district’s Bus Monitor of the Year. After about thirty seconds of chatting, it became very clear why she earned the honor. She talked about “her babies” with so much pride and affection that I honestly think half the kids on her route have an extra grandma looking out for them every morning. The world could use more Tinas.

It feels like I just finished stocking my shelves with summer reading, and somehow backpacks are already sneaking into store displays. Time has been particularly rude this year.

One of my favorite traditions continues to be watching first-time visitors step inside.

Every single time it’s the same reaction.

“Oh my gosh…this is my dream!”

“This is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen!”

The weather couldn’t quite make up its mind. It was cool, there was a little rain here and there, and honestly…it was perfect. Great weather for running, biking, tug-of-war, basketball, baseball, dodgeball, volleyball, yoga, cornhole, Zumba, and whatever other event had coworkers suddenly treating Brenda from Accounting like their biggest athletic rival.

Now, I need to address the giant red elephant in the room.
The fire truck.
I was parked right next to it.
At first, I thought we’d be colleagues. Community partners. Two beloved neighborhood icons working side-by-side.
Wrong.
The fire truck was a customer thief.

The sun was shining, the grass was green, and thousands of people spent their Saturday doing exactly what Saturdays were made for—wandering through a beautiful park, supporting local makers and businesses, learning new ways to live a little lighter on the planet, sampling delicious food, listening to live music, swapping clothes instead of buying new ones, and discovering that sustainability somehow still results in carrying home far more treasures than originally planned.

If you’ve never been to Dull’s Tree Farm, imagine if a Hallmark movie had a budget, better food, and significantly more hanging baskets. I spent Mother’s Day weekend parked out at Dull’s for the May Merry Market, and honestly? The place is offensively charming. Fresh flowers everywhere, handmade goods, kids running feral in open fields, music drifting through the air—it’s the kind of place that makes you briefly believe you, too, could become a person who owns decorative throw pillows labeled “Fresh Eggs.”

The real headline, though?
Readers. Everywhere.

Not fake “my mom told me to look interested” readers. Actual readers. Kids taking their time, flipping through pages, debating choices like tiny, caffeinated literary critics. Older kids casually browsing without being forced. No one dramatically declaring that books are “boring.” I didn’t know what to do with that level of emotional stability.

I just wrapped a 3-day book fair at Liberty Preschool in Indianapolis, and here’s the short version:
Books everywhere
Art that deserved gallery lighting
Kids who absolutely knew what they wanted, and what their peers bought (“Millie got this one, I need it too.”)

Opening Day isn’t just about baseball.
It’s about:

community
tradition
kids showing up excited for something bigger than themselves

And getting to be a small part of that—again—one year after our very first event?

That’s the kind of full-circle moment you don’t plan for… but you hold onto.