Summer So Far
What's not to love about summer?
Sunshine and blue skies and a mama deer sneaking across our back yard, her underside swollen with milk, as she tends to her baby. I sit and hold my breath, afraid she will hear me breathing and bolt.
Petunias that have gone from surviving to thriving in the pots on the deck.
The pesky swallow that is determined to build her nest over our front door in spite of our efforts to discourage her.
Mornings spent in my sewing room, piecing together a quilt for a special little person.
My hair that has finally, finally grown out into a color that resembles our silverware - too short but it's mine.
Jeans that have been pushed away to the far recesses of the closet - they won't be needed again for months.
Watermelon a constant in the fridge, best eaten while standing at the counter so you can spit the seeds into the sink.
Staying up too late reading a good book, then sleeping til the sun pushes its way through the slats of the blinds, and still taking a good hour to drink coffee and wake up slow - reading Oswald Chamber's words of wisdom or The Message for a new slant on scripture.
Day trips to places of little consequence, just because.
Chef salads instead of chili, eaten on the deck, fighting the birds for the space they're used to having to themselves.
Drives into town to visit the kids, expected and unexpected.
Talking through future plans and dreams and what life holds next.
A house full to the seams with celebrations and fishing groups and little people with wet feet tracking from the back door to the bathroom, the driveway littered with scooters and bicycles and chalk drawings, and every bed in the place full of someone worn out from a good day.
The smell of bacon early in the morning. The grill going at dusk.
Ice cream and blackberry cobbler - separate or together!
Boat rides that leave crumbs from peanut butter sandwiches and crushed potato chips; cannonballs off the front of the boat, and seeing the faces of those I love bobbing in the water, hearing their squeals as they splash each other, practice strokes or learn to dive. Coming home with sunkissed shoulders and noses.
That's what we're up to. What's not to love about summer?
Sunshine and blue skies and a mama deer sneaking across our back yard, her underside swollen with milk, as she tends to her baby. I sit and hold my breath, afraid she will hear me breathing and bolt.
Petunias that have gone from surviving to thriving in the pots on the deck.
The pesky swallow that is determined to build her nest over our front door in spite of our efforts to discourage her.
Mornings spent in my sewing room, piecing together a quilt for a special little person.
My hair that has finally, finally grown out into a color that resembles our silverware - too short but it's mine.
Jeans that have been pushed away to the far recesses of the closet - they won't be needed again for months.
Watermelon a constant in the fridge, best eaten while standing at the counter so you can spit the seeds into the sink.
Staying up too late reading a good book, then sleeping til the sun pushes its way through the slats of the blinds, and still taking a good hour to drink coffee and wake up slow - reading Oswald Chamber's words of wisdom or The Message for a new slant on scripture.
Day trips to places of little consequence, just because.
Chef salads instead of chili, eaten on the deck, fighting the birds for the space they're used to having to themselves.
Drives into town to visit the kids, expected and unexpected.
Talking through future plans and dreams and what life holds next.
A house full to the seams with celebrations and fishing groups and little people with wet feet tracking from the back door to the bathroom, the driveway littered with scooters and bicycles and chalk drawings, and every bed in the place full of someone worn out from a good day.
The smell of bacon early in the morning. The grill going at dusk.
Ice cream and blackberry cobbler - separate or together!
Boat rides that leave crumbs from peanut butter sandwiches and crushed potato chips; cannonballs off the front of the boat, and seeing the faces of those I love bobbing in the water, hearing their squeals as they splash each other, practice strokes or learn to dive. Coming home with sunkissed shoulders and noses.
That's what we're up to. What's not to love about summer?
Comments
But I could live without summer's grasshoppers, you know ;)