In all the summers we've had since the beginning of us, this one has been the most packed. Some dismal February day when all we could do to drink the gifts of summer by planning what we would do. We planned and planned some more. Taking out all the stops, excuses, and realities (like it is really hard to camp with a baby), we planned a whimsical and adventuresome summer. It was all we could have expected with a few bumps in the road. Yet to warn you: if you plan in February how you will weed away your summer days, be warned that they will speed by. Busy is always good, in my book. I have so many memories that I need to tuck away somewhere. Some of my favorite are Harris's amazement with Arches, Anna at the ranch on Ol' Timer, and Jack slumbering in the front pack on the way down from Timp Cave.
Then there are all the little things which filled in all the cracks. My house seemed to have a revolving door for all the neighborhood children. Our living quarters are tight, the basement still in the last stages of completion, yet it seemed they didn't care. Boys playing wii or plotting their weekly business. Little girls pushing strollers and conducting tea parties. Then there were the drawn-out mornings where Harris spoiled Anna with attention, pillow forts, and the Price is Right. Those walks to the park filled the twilight hours and drink runs with the kids. Jack growing and changing like the weeds in our garden. Not to forget, the tender sugary corn that we ate at summer's end, luckily there are a couple left on the stalks to make the warm weather linger. Then there was the night when Aaron and I took books out on the patio, meaning to read in candlelight and talked for hours. It probably was me doing the talking and Aaron wanting to get back to his book.
Now its over, school is back in session, the days are shrinking down and cooling off. Which means I actually have a schedule. Those long days of summer have slipped through my fingers. Yet, not without leaving their mark. So, when February rolls around again and we begin to schedule those warm three months, I hope we fill it. I hope we cram as much in, leaving very little air space. Just enough to breathe and to drink a fresh lime or two.