The Summer that almost wasn't

Summer, ah summer….one of my favorite times of the year. I have so many memories of summertime when I was a child, spent with days of playing with Barbie dolls with my cousins, eating grape popcicles and having fresh, ripe tomatoes from my granddaddy’s garden. There was the occasional trip to Florida to the beach, visiting a dear uncle and aunt. Not a care in the world, knowing that when the cicadas started buzzing, my mama would be there soon to pick me up from my Granny’s house. Those days seem so long ago in one sense…another lifetime, and yet, so near and dear in my mind.

So, what has summer become? Most years of late it is spent with projects, cleaning, doing the things that one never has time to do during the school year. This summer? Not hardly. I have spent this summer at Gitmo in the computer department, allowed to leave only for nourishment and bathing, or so it seems. Very thankful that the summer semester was only 7 weeks long, but painfully wounded from the mental warfare that has taken place. A few battles lost, but the war has been won. I am finished with all assignments, I have fought the good fight. I have no more fingerprints.

I have learned, though….my expertise in Bovine Excrement profusity has increased; my knowledge of APA writing has expanded (though painfully); my thoughts on the use of instructional technology have become clearer and more defined, and I have learned what dishes not to get at several local restaurants. One thing I have retained is my right to have lunch with friends. Summer has been a time to re-connect, catch up, commiserate, and enjoy the friendships, some of which have lasted a lifetime. I have also learned to celebrate the passing of another year of life on this planet. This year, I have caught up with the old speed limit of the interstate…”Arrive alive at 55!”. I have. I did. I’m proud.

I have also learned that my quest for higher education has cost me many brain cells. For example, I no longer know my basic integers. When asked recently how many checks, I said ‘one’ and held up four fingers. I have also realized that I am the comic relief at times when my intention is to be the spectator (Thank you J, N, and M for laughing WITH me and not AT me). I have wondered if the onset of Old Timers Disease (CRS) has stricken me, and know that there is no cure but laughter.

At the same time, I have walked with my grown daughter in her quest to become an adult and obtain gainful employment….jury still out on that. I have enjoyed sitting outside on the deck with coffee in hand laughing at ‘cat antics’ and listening to the birds. I have been blessed to enjoy cool mornings of watering my plants on specified watering days and enjoying the habitat of my own little back yard. I will miss these mornings when reality as I know it comes back all too soon.

But one thing is left to do to make summer…go wet a hook, aka go fishing. Yes, I’ll check the fish and game forecast to see just what day looks best. I’ll be there at my buddy’s pond, listening to the birds, crickets, and critters, standing on the bank as I cast my line in the still water. It’s called ‘fishing’, not ‘catching fish.’ And, as they say, a bad day fishing is the best day working.
I’ll make my summer complete in a day or two. I’ll turn off this machine and put on my fishin’ hat. The summer that never was has one more good day left in it.

Gone fishin. Be back….maybe.