I don’t mean to be an alarmist, Readers, but according to a friend’s husband, we’re closing in on the Summer’s Swan Song. This gentleman has held fast to an apparently lifelong contention that Independence Day is tantamount to the grand finale of the season.
Although I do not share this pessimistic read on the calendar, I am going to take the opportunity nonetheless to sound the alert: summer‘s no spring chicken. It’s time to take action, to put into play all those great intentions we dreamed up during the icy months.
This year, my summer is being built around small adventures and old mainstays—I won’t be traveling cross country, or up the Maine coast this season. But I’m typing this from a northbound van with my husband, son, bonus son, daughter, and niece as we head off on a trip that’s become something of a pilgrimage. We’ll be camping—along with nearly 100,000 fellow pilgrims--in a string of Pennsylvania cow pastures for four days of music, teaching, and good, clean fun. I began attending the Creation East Festival when I was 13, and have since been able to introduce the experience to dozens of teens, young adults, and my own family over the years.
After several days of blistering heat, sink sprayer showers, jumbo ice pops, good tunes, and fun times with my crew, I am swapping my niece for my nephew and heading back to VA for a couple weeks of Beach/Art/Culinary Camp. We plan on beach breakfasts, body boarding, creative expression, and new recipes, culminating in the return of my niece—along with the rest of her family for a week of further adventures.
At this point, I’ve got a solid week—perhaps two—to tackle my summer reading list. Oh, the tomes I’ve planned to devour! While I’m soaking in the printed word, I’ll be outputting the same on the flip side, because summer is prime time to crank out book proposals, build blogs, and bolster literary credentials.
I suppose I’ll need to carve out some time to put my new classroom together between books, because I’m spending my last few days before the school bell rings on my other annual pilgrimage at the lakeside spot to which each August I migrate with the regularly of a mating salmon.
All of this sounds wonderful—really—but I can’t help but wonder when I’m going to do all the other things on my list of Summer Must-Dos. There’s entire roadtrips missing from the line up. Lazy Days of open space. Seeds of Adventure with no time to bloom. Which all has me pretty concerned, because summer is suddenly feeling awfully…short. Almost like it’s already gone. And it’s not even the Fourth of July.
So, readers, what’s on your Summer of 2010 list? I’d love to hear what you have going on.
A note about this week’s programming: Although I’ll be away, it’s possible you won’t even miss me! Thanks to the magic of pre-posting, I’ll be here all week. I’m looking forward to coming home to all of your comments, and catching up on all of your blogs, too.