It's nearly the Fourth of July and I still haven't put a toe in the water, either the ocean or a pool. Still, summer is upon us and I am more or less ready for it. I don't have the bathing suit body I was hoping would have magically arrived by now, but there is something about having the windows open in the morning that just delights me. In the U.K. they don't bother with screens, a fact which always fascinates me. I'm sure it's true other places, too, where the climate is less conducive to the happy propagation of flying bugs. I don't understand why they don't have a house full of birds, and speaking of the birds, they must be eating something, so there ARE bugs, but I digress.
We've had no obnoxious "3 H" days yet, which, for those of you not from the area, refers to "Hazy, Hot and Humid", so I can afford to be cheerful about summer still. As is the family tradition, modified due to the internship of Son Number One in Washington, D.C., the clan got up at "zero dark thirty" on the day of the Summer Solstice and went to Nut Island to watch the sun rise.
We've had no obnoxious "3 H" days yet, which, for those of you not from the area, refers to "Hazy, Hot and Humid", so I can afford to be cheerful about summer still. As is the family tradition, modified due to the internship of Son Number One in Washington, D.C., the clan got up at "zero dark thirty" on the day of the Summer Solstice and went to Nut Island to watch the sun rise.
For the second year, Papa came with us to round out the number and the view was very pretty, although I must confess it hasn't changed much since last year. Still, it's a lovely tradition and breakfast is always fun afterwards at the Wheel House Diner. I said to Papa, "I married into this insanity, but why do you drag yourself out of bed at this hour when you don't have to? and he replied, "Who knows how many more times I'll be able to?" and then he laughed.
I love that he laughed. He's 84 now, which makes it no joke, but that is how he feels about life in general, I guess. Recently he spent hours on his hands and knees putting pansies and petunias on the outside of our hedges, where there have been no flowers, no signs of life (except weeds) in twenty years. It looks so nice that now I find myself weeding every time I go by. OK. Not every time, but often. I guess it's a break from his twice daily trips to the nursing home to visit my mother-in-law. She doesn't recognize him most of the time, but he lives for those fleet bursts of clarity when she does. So here's to another season with Papa, who puts me to shame in so many ways. He's at the Y or off on a walk every day, or when the weather gets really bad he's on the rowing machine in his attic. He dotes on his grandchildren and the feeling is beyond mutual. And he loves me, too. How blessed am I? All this and chirping birds, too.
I love that he laughed. He's 84 now, which makes it no joke, but that is how he feels about life in general, I guess. Recently he spent hours on his hands and knees putting pansies and petunias on the outside of our hedges, where there have been no flowers, no signs of life (except weeds) in twenty years. It looks so nice that now I find myself weeding every time I go by. OK. Not every time, but often. I guess it's a break from his twice daily trips to the nursing home to visit my mother-in-law. She doesn't recognize him most of the time, but he lives for those fleet bursts of clarity when she does. So here's to another season with Papa, who puts me to shame in so many ways. He's at the Y or off on a walk every day, or when the weather gets really bad he's on the rowing machine in his attic. He dotes on his grandchildren and the feeling is beyond mutual. And he loves me, too. How blessed am I? All this and chirping birds, too.
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