How to Spend a Summer Day


I've heard a few people recently express disbelief that summer is moving so quickly. Why, we're already in the middle of July! I understand the sentiment; I've been through Wal-Mart with their premature back-to-school displays aggressively looming, after all. But for me, July always feels like the start of summer. 
Since I teach until the end of June, July is the month where I finally let my guard down, complete the projects that I've been meaning to get to, and unwind before fall semester preparations start in earnest when we shift into August. We gather family for a happy picnic and fireworks on the Fourth of July. We tend to the garden but don't need to cut the grass as often since it's not growing much.

This past weekend, like one weekend every other July, I join our street's community garage sale, making hundreds of decisions about how to price hundreds of items. This year, I was thankful when the projected forecast of 40% rain passed without a single drop. I revel in the lightness that comes from watching old things being moved out and the wad of cash folded up in my left shorts pocket getting thicker as the day grows longer. 
At the end of every garage sale weekend, I break down the tables, arrange one plastic bin of good items to earmark for next year's sale, gather the remaining leftovers in bags for Goodwill, and carefully sweep the garage floor. We can park cars in our garage again. I feel like I've lost ten pounds. I keep inventing reasons to walk into the garage to appreciate its emptiness and order.

I have other projects to complete this month. I plan to paint an accent wall in our office. I have a few pieces of old furniture that I'll refinish and sell. There's writing to be done, and I'm preparing for a speaking engagement in August.

But yesterday I did none of that. Yesterday, I exercised in the morning, then negated that exercise by buying myself a Dr Pepper from the McDonald's drive through (large with light ice, nonetheless), and then read an engrossing book, cover to cover, as I laid on the couch.

Occasionally, I sensed a niggle in the back of my mind. What am I neglecting? Shouldn't I be doing something? 
I had to quiet that self-censure, reminding myself that I was doing something. I was enjoying a summer day.

No comments

Back to Top