Summer Time And The Livin' Is Easy

I'm sitting on the swing in the side yard enjoying the last days of spring. No, I did not get a lap top and wireless internet connection (although a Farm Wife can dream can't she?); I'm doing this the old fashioned way...pen to paper.

It's strange to think that it isn't yet summer. Not until June 21st...officially anyway. Personally I'm of the belief that Memorial day and a full week of 80-degree weather makes it summer, not Soltice.

So, what makes Summer?

A screen door black with horse flies (the state bird of Illinois). Scratching mosquito bites. Tiger lilies blooming in the ditches. Mayonnaise jars full of lightning bugs. The smell of honeysuckle and jasmine floating up from the fencerow. Clover crowns and dandelion chains. The song of frogs in the pond and cicadas in the trees.

Babies in sunglasses smelling of sunscreen. Sticky chins, fingers, and laps: blue, purple, green, and red from dripping Popsicles. Shirtfronts wet from trying to drink from the hydrant (that's a spicket to city folk). Little boys with farmer tans. Skinned knees and elbows. Sunburnt shoulders smeared with Noxzema.

Grass clippings floating in the wading pool. Fingernails grimy from the sandbox and flower beds. Dirt rings around the bathtub. Swimming at the city pool. Softball games.

Shucking corn in Grandma M&M's back yard. Fish fry's and home made ice cream. Water fights with cousins at Busha and Bucka's. Watermelon seeds all over the yard. Family reunions at the park. Crawling into bed bone tired after a day of fishing from Grandpa's boat. Cookouts with Aunts, Uncles, and too many cousins to count. Fireworks in the back yard or city park. Writing your name in the air with a sparkler. Taking a bath in the wash tub in Great-grandma's side yard.

Air so hot and humid it's like breathing through a damp cloth. Breaking a sweat just stepping outside. Towels stiff from an hour on the line. The blessed cool breeze that surprises you just as you're sure it can't get any hotter. Days so hot you don't even open the blinds. PB & J on white bread for dinner because it's too hot to cook muchless eat anything.

Squatting to pick strawberries until your legs give out and you end up sitting in the dirt tossing berries into your bucket because you're too tired to get up and drag it closer to you. Scooting down the slide because your sweaty legs keep you from actually sliding. Running through the sprinkler in the garden.

Vespers at Church camp. Vacation Bible School. Setting in lawn chairs in the side yard of the church & watching Ma & Pa Kettle movies projected on the side of the sanctuary. Church picnics. Little girls in yellow seersucker dresses and white church sandals. Little boys in khaki shorts and ice cream colored polo shirts.

Fairs. 4-H and County. And the food! Cotton candy, funnel cakes, lemon shake-ups, and salt water taffy. Sun tea brewing on the back porch. Hot dogs and roasted marshmallows.

That's my summer. I don't think it's particularly romantic...not the stuff of Tennessee Williams plays...not even the sweating and oppressive heat...But it's mine nonetheless.