Summertime

Ah, summertime.

Today is summer solstice. The longest day of the year. An important day to me, my favorite day. Summertime is for breezy clothes, flip flops, sunshine, convertibles, the Shore, the boardwalk, lemon ice, beach bags and parties. Summertime is for porches, decks, beaches, trashy novels, pink toes in the sand, romances and really cold drinks. Summertime is for lightening up, cutting loose, being free and letting go.

In honor of today's summer solstice, I made cookies, took a nap, bonded with my kitties, toured my garden (found a monarch butterfly caterpillar out there!), dusted the cobwebs from my convertible and took it for a ride.

I was born and educated to love the Summer. It's a family affair all this reverence for summer. We're all the same in my family. Mom used to write the countdown to Spring on the calendar pages, while Dad used countdown to solstice silently every year. About 3 weeks before the 1st day of summer, he'd perk up and say "summer is coming!"

I remember as a child playing till well into the darkness outdoors in the neighborhood, every single day. School's out. Seemed like our house was often the collecting point for kids. Many days the play spilled into our next door neighbor's place....their brook, tree house, chicken coop (yup!) or hammock. Doors weren't locked. Kids didn't go missing. We could disappear for hours, and it was "ok" because things were different back then. Neighbors actually knew neighbors, safety & trust surrounded us all.

Our own yard was ripe for dirt bomb fights, hours on end. Scuff around the lawn long enough, and kids can kill anything.... we had a large dirt patch that mom tried so hard to make nice, but with us around, no chance. So, we'd kick that dirt patch with our sneakers til there was a good amount of dust & small pebbles, then take a small Dixie cup, fill it half way, tuck the edges in, and heaven help whoever was in closest proximity. Dirt bombs. Good times.

We'd have watermelon (not bio engineered back then, they actually had pits) then spit pits at each other like idiots. We became completely enthralled when we'd find the 1 white pit in each piece (Come on, you know what I'm talking about, you KNOW it! Every piece of watermelon "back in the day" had only one white pit. Once found, of course we'd exclaim "my white pit!" as we picked our victim for that particular bullet).

Mom's big square fan at the bottom of the steps tilted back so it pointed upstairs to the bedrooms. How about that big round fan that was humming constantly in the TV room, her white curtains moving ever gently in whatever air could pass through. I still have that fan. I'm afraid to plug it in.... but yes, I still have that fan. No a/c in that house, no way.

Watching my big brother and his friend John build ramps with wood and logs, then jump over them with their bikes & skateboards (and even the brook, channeling their inner Evil Knievel I suppose).

As a young adult I was inducted into the convertible club. By about age 20 I had my 1st drop top, a 1966 Mustang with a 289V8, and pony interior. It had real chrome too, I polished it weekly. Driving my friends in that car to the Dairy Queen, acting like fools. Summertime.

As I got older, summertime meant scheduled vacations and every single weekend at the shore. Parties. Boats. Tanning. Family. Friends. Really good friends. Hopping the fence over to my neighbors, Jack & Trish's house, for food, drinks, games & conversation.

Now my summers are spent at Deer Run. The ocean temperatures are in the 80s or higher, some days the water at the edges is actually hot. Dragonflies are everywhere. The Key deer spend long hours under the giant sea grape tree resting in the heat of the day. Traffic on the highway is light, I can make it to Key West in less than a half hour. Even in the Keys, summertime somehow seems more casual, how is that even possible I wonder. I can devote hours on end to my painting in the summertime. I feel free to stop work and just "go." Go where? Who knows? Who cares. But I do whatever I want a lot more often in the summertime than other times of the year.

I look forward to Summer Solstice every year, and everything it represents. Its a joyous season, one to embrace and cherish. Time moves slower in summer, and if it doesn't you're missing out. It's here, its now. Soak it in. Do something different... shake things up. Take a risk. Play hard. Have fun. Don't waste it, don't miss it. It's ours for the taking.