Summertime

When I was a little girl, there was no such thing as video games. But there was TV—but we didn’t watch it very much. Mom encouraged us to play outside and we usually obliged her. With the next door neighbor girls Cheryl and Cheyle, we’d play pioneers. We’d wind our way back and forth through our spacious backyards, hoping to reach California. Red wagons and baby dolls accompanied us on our adventure-filled treks.

During high school, I worked part-time jobs at about every fast food chain you could name. But I still found time to read, write, draw and cram for standardized tests. I remember trying to memorize lists of vocabulary words and trying to figure out word problems. We lived in a rural area, so I didn’t socialize very often, although my friend Rhonda lived down the road and we’d get together periodically.

In my twenties, I spent too much time in graduate school, which meant I worked summers to pay my rent. But in my thirties and forties, I’d held full-time jobs, so the reward to myself is taking the summers off. De-cluttering and cleaning the house always remain top priorities. I read, albeit more magazines and mystery novels than classics. Some travel—seeing old friends…. Probably wasting more time than I should admit.

This summer has been different than most. It’s been filled with losses….. My trivia team unexpectedly dropped me from the team—I was the best player, but they felt too “negative” or something like that. Then my secretary at work transferred to another school….and never told me. Tragically, our school receptionist was murdered, leaving her friends and co-workers alternately stunned, angry and saddened.

I’ve tried hard to maintain a routine….contact others, keep exercising and eating right, reading magazines, keeping up on Rosetta Stone. And I’m starting to feel a bit more like it’s summer. I went to a friend’s cookout and caught up with a college buddy. My husband and I even went to see what’s left of the Beach Boys at a local festival this past Sunday night. But I must confess—this is one summer that will always be bittersweet in my memory.