Summer in, Summer Out
I began summer in the place I’m ending summer with a reverse visit switch–the same folk, different locale.
Starting my break with GiGi duty (grandma) proved an auspicious start to summer. After a week of reading Narnia, scoping out Portland’s playgrounds, tromping in summer rain, and frolicking in a water park I reloaded the car and headed for a self-imposed writer’s retreat, by borrowing my mom’s condo. I managed to get some solid work done on my authors and their cats manuscript.
Situated in my hometown, Mom’s condo is old (built in 1966) yet boasts amenities such as a pool and a large private balcony overlooking a tree lined creek. Veddy nice.
Quiet? Mostly, except for the occasional boomers who like to meet up in the community service parking lot next door after hours and their rap music bass rattles the sliding glass doors. Or the garbage truck on Tuesdsys at 5 a.m.
Peaceful is a better word. Most of the time it’s peaceful here. No constant interruptions of the trains, fairground events, traffic patterns, and ongoing construction behind our house, just a day’s drive away. The condo is perfect for decompressing.
I usually don’t need too much R&R after the school year ends. This year though… *sigh* It’d been one of those years where I wondered if it’s time I should retire. However, a rest up of two weeks in June and I was back planning lessons for the upcoming year.
July spent at home with the Hubs, I have the condo to myself after a visit my mom, who came up from Arizona to see the family, and to escape 114 degrees as well. She left, I stayed, thinking the peacefulness encountered at summer’s start would greet me once again.
I’m not quite finding it.
It must have something to do with the anticipation of school starting. Instead of reading books lounging at on the balcony in solitude, I’m polishing lesson plans. Instead of reveling in the quiet respite, I’m trying to persuade the Hubs to drop projects (even though I would really like the fact that the garage is being tidied, and the kitchen painted) and to pop in the truck and pop over. “Are you lonely?” he inquires. “Not at all,” I reply.
I believe I’m restless.
Well, dinner with my boyos and a weekend visit with my girlies and summer will be done.
It’s funny how different June can be from August in the same place.
A June donut even tastes different than an August donut.
Pam Webb 