Found an Old Blog Post from Years Back...

Who dat?!? ;-) and damn, I miss my dog!

SATURDAY, JUNE 21

Sum-Sum-Summer !

Ah, cold freshwater swims.
Berries.  Crunching peas, in the pod.
Waking up, windows open, to the pre-dawn bird chatter.
Pulling in a fish on a line, cleanly hooked, fat and fresh.
Driving with the windows down, and the radio on.  Rollercoasters!

Summer's here, many things to many people.
Looking forward, I hope, to visiting the family in Illinois soon, and hopefully hosting them up here, later in the summer.  The county fairgrounds are a dog walk away, and the girls were out there in the ring last night, one at a time, practicing with their horses under the watchful eyes of parents, with the horsetrailers parked to the side.

(Buddy loves sniffing tires that bring new country scents to his neighborhood walk.  He stinks right now, rolled in something again yesterday on the trail -- wild animal scat, not a dead fish -- that to him is perfume.  Oh, I wash him and he's not dirty, still very pettable.  Just don't have the heart to take his feral smell away, he loves it, you can tell by the way he carries himself proudly, a big bad beast of 17 pounds.  We did make a quick run to the dog park, windows down, and it was nice to see the other dogs sniffing his neck and scruff, where he had rolled and perfumed up, and not his rear end, which they often seem to just chase in circles...)

Chances are, the plans today include getting him to walk a bit deeper into the lake or river while he's drinking, so I can rub the smell off him.  The waters are running so high this year -- in places where there is usually a little shoreline created at the bottom of a wooden stairway off a walking trail, the Red Cedar river now laps at the bottom steps, but there's still a few feet of calm waters away from the rapidly moving current.

I stopped at Clear Lake park Thursday for a swim.  There's something about the minerals in a spring fed lake that does wonders for the hair and skin.  Really.  The lake too had a natural scent after all the rainfall we've been having here, and indeed it was cold, but nothing says summer to me like a good dunk and 10-minutes of floating and sculling and stretching the limbs in the water.

Maybe the kayaks will go in today...  Mal's got his out of storage already, and it's almost time for him to bring Buddy back;  he's a favored guest at the assisted living/nursing home where Mal's dad Norm resides and he visits often, when staying with Mal.  Such a good dog -- Mal uses treats to reinforce good behavior and that dog does not leave his side, except when a wheelchair woman pats her lap and encourages him up.  (Don't worry -- Mal will have that dog bathed with shampoo scents and soft and fluffy, the first day he's back.  I don't have the heart to tell him:  Buddy likes to smell like an animal, not like a people, but then we go by "your roof, your rules" in taking care of this shared dog, who seems to have done well adapting to two masters, probably allowing for the fact that he knows he's loved and we're pretty similar in our care overall.)

So there you go:  Saturday, June 21.   Saturday is such a magic word, even minus the solstice special.  I wish family was closer, but then with the new (to me) car -- I'm still chanelling my inner Sherman Helmsley driving that thing -- we'll get together soon, I hope.

Midwestern kids have finally gotten out of school, for a week or two now:  those snowday paybacks, making up for lost time in the winter by extending the schoolyear, had them standing on the bus stops many days in early June, and it even extended the hours on my testscoring job, as I was working on a project where the kids had to pass the test to graduate in their state.

(I wish I could speak more on that work, but, confidentiality rules and all.  I was pretty surprised to read recently a NYT column detailing intimate details from admission essays for an Ivy League school.  Some entrepreneur apparently had scooped up their stories for his business enterprise, even passed them on to the columnist, who identified the years the admissions reader had worked, cluing one into the year the essayist had applied..  You'd think the schools would better protect their applicants than that:  betcha they didn't like to see such stories splashed in print, those personal details being used to sell papers or somebody's essay-help services.)

But back to summer:
It's not all fun and games, of course.  You still have to make a living, pay the bills, keep up with apartment/storage organizing...  Not doing two gardens this year, and truth be told, I'm even neglecting the one.  Saturday farmers market -- and in rural areas, they're good-deal affordable -- will keep me in stock for the week, just as fresh really, as my picking and eating, with much less time invested...

The best part of early summer is the blankness of the slate:  it's all still there waiting, laid out for you to do with what you will.  What did you with it?  What did I do with it?  No skydiving planned, but my sister's family does live nearby Great America -- is this a great country or what? -- and for years, she had seasons passes to the park.  Close enough, some of those rides.

Fireflies!
How could I forget that summer staple -- no, not for eating -- and indeed, we call them lightning bugs here.  They'll be back soon surely.

Whatever you choose to do -- today or throughout your extended summer, enjoy! -- and remember, don't rush it.  These are the days, my friends, where life is all around and good things come from what we make of it.  Whether you're rolling in a natural perfume, or feeling the water course around your calves, don't be afraid to let your hair get messed up in the wind or set a new style emerging from the lake or river waters.  That's life really, kind of messed up but healthy overall.