Good Night, Summer

Wasn't it yesterday that we were digging in the dirt, preparing our small patch of ground for planting?

How did the summer slip away? The harvest this year could have been bountiful if I'd been here to enjoy it.

Peas and beans, cucumbers and cilantro all got away from me, grown and gone to seed before I could pick them all. Grapes fell victim to our resident thieves, a renegade band of squirrels who take no prisoners and spread destruction wherever they go.

In protest to the late onset of summer, our raspberries are only now putting out fruit, at the same time as our pumpkin crop of 2 whole pumpkins has turned bright orange.

The potatoes are dug, the tomatoes sliced and eaten. A few red specks of cherry tomato dot the garden now, but they'll soon be gone too, burst between eager teeth.

Good night, summer. Sleep well and waken the earth again soon.

Dog Days of Summer

Well, we finally joined the nationwide heatwave, just in time for Alaskan relatives to come melt in the 100 degree heat predicted for tomorrow.

Not that you'll hear me complaining.

One of my best strategies to beat the heat (since we have no AC) is to move as little as possible. Our family dog has this down to an art form.

Another strategy is to keep the freezer filled with juice pops, the water bottles filled with cold water, and all the curtains closed.

How are you keeping cool this week?

The Sun Is Out!!!

We had our first honest to goodness warm sunny day of the year today!

I'm so happy about it, I thought the sun should come out on the old blog, too.

Hope you enjoy the new format. Maybe my brain will dry out enough for me to put some interesting thoughts together.

Hope your day is as sunny as mine!

Buried in Berries

2 moms.

5 girls.

1.5 hours.

20 rows of bushes.

18 buckets, 8 empty, 10 full.

42 pounds of raspberries.

1 wonderful morning.

Reaping What I've Sown

The garden is up and this week we're enjoying early fruits of the labor we put in on those cold March days. Spinach, four varieties of lettuce, kale, cabbage, and radishes grace the table at every meal and leave the house by the bagful with each visitor who drops by. I start every morning surveying the tomato, squash and pea plants, looking for blossoms and young, succulent fruit. Papa's winter pruning has paid off this week with a lovely harvest of bing cherries. We watch the plums plump on their branches and count the days until July.

For longer term reaping and sowing, I still plug away on writing projects, honing my skills and hoping someday they will turn into either a paying gig or a way I can minister to people beyond my small circle of friends.

And for the future, I invest time in my children, knowing that the lessons they learn now will reap benefits for them and for their families for generations to come.

Endless Summer

Officially, it's over. The 2007-2008 school year, that is. Unofficially, I still want the kids working on French a few times a week, one of the older kids has about 45 minutes worth of work to do before she's free and the younger one really shouldn't stop practicing her handwriting.

Officially, though, we're on summer vacation.

Long, hot, lazy days sprawl before us, promising relaxation and sun.

If you buy that, you don't live in America. Somehow, the summer is filling up with swimming lessons and camping trips, birthday parties, doctor appointments, and standardized testing, visits from grandparents and the promise of a new nephew. Alas, those lazy days of summer seem to be reserved in the minds of those of us with memory loss.

This summer, I want to write. I want to catch up with all my friends, clean out the pantry and the cabinet under the bathroom sink, and grow a freezer full of vegetables. I want to walk through the farmers market with the generation before me and hold a baby in my arms from the generation after.

I want to make the world a little bit better place and help my kids to do the same.

What are you doing this summer?

Farewell to Summer

Four months ago we packed our books,
tucked pencils into boxes
recycled scads of paperwork
and went in search of foxes.

First outdoor school, then trav'ling north
in camper, van and ferry.
A week of fun in the old home town
to see a brother marry.

A flight back home with grandparents
to a garden overgrown
with radishes as big as beets
and cukes and beans full blown.

Three times we camped out on the coast
and once in our own grass,
though that time lasted 6 whole weeks
for B, our bonny lass.

A birthday bash with 26 guests,
a movie on the lawn,
and fun and games and baptisms,
Oh where has summer gone?

The books are dusted off once more;
The pencils are all sharp.
The math CDs are in their place,
as is the montrous harp.

Even the kids are set to learn,
to put their sloth away.
Is it just me or did this summer
pass in one short day?

Acclimation

Perhaps all those years in the tropical sun addled my brain. Or maybe they just reset my thermostat. Considering I grew up in a place where 70 was a "scorcher", I'm a little surprised the 101 temperatures this week haven't bothered me at all - I've been able to get my chores done, inside and out, take a 5-mile walk, even cook a meal or two.

I have discovered a new hot weather treat - blended chai tea (like a tea milkshake). Do you have any favorite ways to beat the heat?

Hushhhhh

When is the last time you were quiet enough to hear the whisper of shifting sands?

When did you last stand outside in darkness deep enough to reveal the Milky Way?

When did you last startle a deer? Or stand face to face with a raccoon? Or look down on the outstretched wings of a bald eagle?

In contrast to Saturday in the city, Monday I planted my feet on the same bit of beach Lewis and Clark stood on 201 years ago. I looked out over the same ocean and marvelled, as men have for eons, over thousands of yellow reflected bits of sun skipping across rippling seas.

My cabin fever has been banished once again in the celebration of summer.