(My wheat crop is in! I think we have enough for a cup of flour. Photo Credit: The Man)
I have survived the first week of summer. Barely.
Much credit goes to my friend Sarah, who keeps whisking Will off to the pool and the river and her backyard. I have to finish up a revision in the next two weeks, and having Will out of the house and fully occupied helps. A lot.
Jack just sleeps until someone drags him out of bed. By the way, he was measured at a doctor's appointment today, and we are now exactly the same height. I imagine he'll be towering over me by the end of the summer. I still outweigh him by thirty pounds--why isn't that a comfort?
Here are some of my hopes/plans/dreams for the summer:
1. We will all get through it physically, emotionally, psychologically and spiritually unharmed.
2. I will be serious about canning my garden bounty, and my children will share my obsession. We will spend many a happy afternoon in the kitchen, laughing and singing as we make blackberry jam. We might even dance a little, just because we are so, so happy about jam.
3. I will not be in any way or form tempted to sell my children to the lowest bidder.
4. I will continue to get up early (6:30ish; I'm shooting for 6:00) to read on the porch and weed the garden, and enjoy the peace of a quiet house. Moreover, Will, sensing that I'm up, will not decide that he, too, will get up at 6 a.m. so he can play computer games.
5. I will sell the computer--and all gaming systems--to the lowest bidder.
6. I will not give up on my garden in mid-July just because it's too dang hot.
7. I will not give up on my children and sell them to the lowest bidder just because it's too dang hot.
That's my list for now. I'm also pondering making this not just the Summer of Pie, but also the Summer of the Southern Biscuit, and also the Summer of Eudora Welty, whose letters I'm reading right now. It's good to have several set themes for one's summer, so that one does not lose heart.
I will not lose heart. I will eat biscuits and jam instead.
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