It Ain't Over 'til It's Over

I am not ready for summer to end.  Just when I got into the groove of the season, it up and blatantly, with a cool breeze, warned me that “you had better get a move on to get all those things you thought you were going to accomplish this summer finished because you may not have much time left if you think you are going to even remotely complete what you thought you would”.  Nothing quite like a gentle reminder that you have basically lounged through the summer with nary an impressive triumph in sight to point to, and to think it had started out so favorably.

Vacation plans had been made well in advance.  The proverbial annuals (curses, I should stick with perennials, but I always forget which is which) had been purchased and promptly planted when finally, the coast was clear and no freeze was in sight.  The thought of cleaning out the garage had passed my mind (the mere consideration of such a task was enough to make me weary – I quickly placed it on my love muffins “honey-do” list).  After the initial flurry of activity (i.e.  the first week), my pace seemed to become sluggish and priorities shifted.  I cannot exactly put my finger on it, but I think destiny may have been determined the minute I sat down on the deck and opened my first trashy read of the season or the fact that my child is older and doesn’t require (or want) the usual routine of summers (swim class, tennis class, soccer camp, space camp, science camp, etc., etc.  etc.) gone past.

I am not sure if it was the warm sun, fantasizing through the pulp fiction, or the fact that I was in the deliriously delicious state of sitting alone, but I found the quiet of the morning was heaven on earth.  From this point on, I seized the summer and little things like vacuuming were pushed to the back burner.  I took the rise in gas prices as an omen to stay close to home and reduce errands.  Dinners became an adventure with odd concoctions of epicurean delight because I didn’t always make it to the market and insisted we clean out the freezer of crystallized surprises.

I ventured to the beach, in a bathing suit.  I thought what the heck, even though there were parts of my body that hadn’t seen the light of day for years, I rationalized that a tan would be helpful as an illusion for a thinner me.  People watching made me laugh, wonder and appreciate the “normalcy” of my life.

Now that I have captured this routine, it is going to be difficult to give it up and descend into my usual fall and winter customs of reminding the child to do his homework, volunteer activities and black clothing.  Reality is a tough job, but someone has to do it.  So, I am thinking of implementing a modified version of summer for the other seasons.  This may change my overall attitude and perhaps even add years to my life.  If there is a chance to stop and smell the roses, I am going to do that first… and then get the other stuff done – I know that load of laundry will still be there when I get around to it.

Cynthia A. McClelland, curious observer of the obvious with interpretations of the oddities of daily life.  Mother, wife and lover of the furry, resides in the north Lake Tahoe area.

Cynthia A. McClelland © 2003-