My favorite summer writing spot is my front porch. Even though I live on a busy street, there is something so relaxing and old fashioned about the front portch. I will admit though, I'm not sipping lemonade or eating watermelon while sitting on my front porch swing, but I am sipping my Starbucks Iced Green Tea and typing away on my Mac Book. It may be the front porch, but I'm not one to turn my back on technology. So here I sit. Writing and wondering.
It usually takes me a week or two to settle in to summer. It's not easy for me to switch gears from my usual routine during the school year of getting up at 5:30 to being able to sleep in just a little bit later. I'm not a person who can lie in bed for hours anyway. Once I'm awake, I have to get up, but being able to hang about in my jammies for awhile is very appealing.
My summer vacation only started yesterday even though we've been out of school for a week. I had moving to do, from 124 across the hall to 134. The amount of "stuff" I've managed to collect is five years is amazing to me. It was, and still is an overwhelming task and even though my stuff is sitting in a new room it's far from organized. I have a good week if not more of work ahead of me.
But there comes a point when you just have to walk away. I had to walk away from the expectations. Expectations that it should all be done faster and more completely. But as I was cleaning out the last closet, seething with frustration and wilting from the heat and humidity, I realized the mess will still be there in August. It's not going anywhere, but I wonder...will I ever really be able to settle in to summer vacation knowing it's there waiting for me?
I think the answer is YES and I realized it yesterday. It was a beautiful, picture perfect summer day. Big puffy white clouds floating in a blue sky. Warm without a touch of humidity.
Patrick has been asking...no begging for me to take him to Salem Willows.
I reluctantly agreed as I do every year, reluctant not because I don't like spending time with the kid, reluctant because I know you can't go to the Willows without dropping some cash. But to a nine-year old there is something so very cool about dropping quarters into a machine and seeing how many tickets are going to come out. I'm good for at least one visit a year, and each year we have a great time together. Truly, it's one of the highlights of our summer, and it was a perfect day for it.
We spent close to two hours there and as we were walking back to the car, eating our ice cream, along the harbor on this picture perfect day, I realized that this is why I'll be able to let my room go.
Why what other people expect of me doesn't matter, right at that moment, Patrick mattered more than an organized classroom.
August will be here soon enough.