Tuesday, April 19, 2016

30 Day Writing Challenge 2 - 4/19/16: Summer

Oh summer, I'm so sorry I took you for granted for so many years......


I miss those days of sleeping in until 10:00 or 11:00, with no deeds to do or promises to keep. I miss staying up until late in the night, reading a favorite book while listening to my favorite radio station or a much-beloved cassette (yeah, I just dated myself there). I miss having no responsibilities other than maybe doing laundry or dishes, maybe vacuuming (and mind you, complaining about it the entire time because HELLO?? I'm on summer break but I have a summer reading list!) And oh yes, that much-maligned summer reading list. Can you believe Miss Duncan's NERVE to give us selections with no Cliffs Notes? My summer is ruined. How am I supposed to keep up with Days of Our Lives if I'm stuck reading Dickens? 

Summers as a young child always involved a trip to southwest Georgia to visit my great-aunt and great-uncle. I remember trips into Florida -- to Tallahassee for seeing the capitol building and governor's mansion, and always a trip to Publix with Pop John. And another trip to the Stephen Foster museum in White Springs. I guarantee you I was the only five-year-old who even had an inkling who Stephen Foster might have been, just from the museum excursion. And I beamed when the Squirrel Nut Zippers sang "Ghost of Stephen Foster." Take that! But then Aunt Mary passed when I was 8 and so those trips ended. Later on came summer camping vacations -- torrential downpours in tents and sweating out a summer cold in a pop-up. Good times, good times.....

But then came the days of summer jobs... in my case, during college to have some fun money, if you consider saving it for books fun. I didn't. But it was kind of fun to be out of the house and learning valuable skills in the world of business. I laugh now, because I never wanted a business degree and had no intention to spend a career in corporate America. And except for a nine-year stretch at a NPO, I've done just that. It's enough to make the baby Jesus weep.

I miss you, my carefree summers. I'm sorry I treated you so capriciously then. I wish I could take it all back. If you let me win it big, I'll make it up to you. Yacht in the Mediterranean?

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