Summer arrives

Summer has arrived in southwest Virginia. We’ve got your oppressive heat, 100% humidity, mosquito bath, screaming bugs. We’ve got your green leaves and slow-ripening fruit and blueberry-stealing birds. The elderflowers are simply to die for. Welcome to the jungle, darling.

This time of year is always a mixed bag for me. On the one hand, my body wants summer slowness. I want to move like molasses – quiet sunny mornings, lots of outside time, afternoon naps, late evenings on the porch. On the other hand, nothing seems to actually slow down anymore. This is doubly true with the kid. He is always go-go-go¹. So my soul is singing for quiet and a few weeks off and my body is trapped in the viciously sweet loop of routine.

The good news is that we see literally everyone. It is every birthday² which means rounds and rounds of birthday parties, cake, potato salad, assorted burgers, playground dates and adventures, splashing in sprinklers. All of my celebrations in winter are jammed into one long month or so, which is painful but doable. Summer is a marathon at full speed. I’ve come to the conclusion that the only way I could keep up would be to have the whole thing off work. And it’s beginning to creep back into the year. The new gateway seems to be Mother’s Day. That’s the beginning of May!

This whole living thing is incredibly busy business.

Of course, there are other reasons I’m feeling a little frayed at the edges. I’m trying to remember to be in awe of those who are using their bodies and time on this earth to try to protect and uplift the downtrodden, as opposed to feeling the swirl of negative emotions that can come from turning on the news these days. Growing things is hard work.³ Overwhelming work, even.

In nonfiction this week, I’m listening to “How to Fall in Love with the Future” which is an episode of Upstream. I’m also still working my way through Abundance, which I have mixed feelings about at this point. Perhaps I’ll have some thoughts to share sometime. My farmshare has kohlrabi in it so I’ve been reading about that, too. And I’m reading a lovely collection of short stories by Robin McKinley called A Knot in the Grain.⁴ I wish for you some sunbathing or something similar this summer. Dreaming time is so important.

1. Indeed, this is one of his favorite things to say. He shouts it while he sprints in circles around the front yard. ↩︎
2. There are at least two birthdays every month from June through August that are absolutely required attendance. This does not count friends. ↩︎
3. I am beginning to understand that I have never worked hard in my life. ↩︎
4. My appetite for new fiction has largely leaned towards fairytales lately. ↩︎