I don't know what it is about September that makes me feel like a whole person again. Does it do the same to you? April and May are a bit of a crap shoot, it might be nice, it might not, the spring flowers might bloom, they might not, it's time to stop using the wood stove but it isn't time to turn off the furnace completely. It's too soon for sandals and forget barelegs but its kind of exciting in a living-with-a-maniac kind of way.
The game opening pitch, just as pretty as a spring flower!
June is usually good, often the sun is doing its thing, the gardens are greening up nicely, the cotton sweaters are a nice treat being of brighter and happier colours and the winter clothes and blankets are firmly away. Plans are being made for the summer and vacations and the windows are generally open most of the time.
The Deutzia bush that might be something else, but I love it!
July gets a bit shirty. Sometimes too hot, sometimes too bright (which can trigger a headache from flicker lights) the cats are often found in dark cool corners under furniture and mowing the lawn is exhausting (not that I'd know, I don't do it). The vacation plans never materialize in quite the same way as we expected, as in it is completely foggy for the entire week (2010), we forgot to plan one (2009), the last child was moving out and I cried the entire summer (2008) or we have to travel to Toronto (never again). For some people, this is the beginning of the summer excitement, the kids are out of school, schedules can relax, certain chores can be ignored like worrying if children are clean or my favourite, locking the vacuum cleaner up for the month. July means the circulating fans come out of the basement and to me, that is just depressing. It means I am going to be hot soon. I don't know, it just doesn't do a whole lot for me.
August..... I used to love August. That was back when I was a kid and my mom would get on the phone with Laurie's mom and they would sort out which family hosted which kid and where. Usually I headed up to Lion's Head on Georgian Bay for a few weeks and forgot about my family entirely. If not that, then we headed to a cottage nearby and swam non-stop at Sauble Beach, read a billion Redbook magazine romance stories, suntanned, played mini-put and slept with sand in the bed. I didn't think about anything beyond the next book to read. Now-a-days, I'm in charge of the phone calls that organize other people's leisure time, I get the books from the library and I sweep the sand up when we leave whatever vacation trip we're on.
The past two summers we have been more aggressive about getting things comfortable at our camp near Liverpool. We have addressed the bug situation with a screened in kitchen porch, we have a walk-out to a rock to read in the sun and there is a hammock to lie about in. This summer we finally (and I mean it has taken years) agreed upon a design for a bunk house. One double bed, a potty, space for two small suitcases and maybe a writing/eating table for bad weather. Yup, it's taken years to sort out the shape of that box. Thankfully, we have a decision, and better yet we have foundation posts, a platform and a structure.
Thank you Steve, Phoebe, Terry and Angus. It has been built entirely out of recycled materials, scavenged materials, and re-used materials. We have goals to get this building enclosed by the end of the fall.
But back to September. My recorder group won't reform until the end of the month, my yoga won't start until next week, the lecture series I attend won't start till the 16th, but here's the joy. They are all starting up again! I can get back to seeing people I like, doing things I enjoy, getting a schedule back in some sort of framework, and best of all, I can stop sweating. Involuntary sweating that is. Sweating while sitting in a chair in a cool room, trying to write is not fun. September represents to me new beginnings of new things, of old favourite things, seeing people again, and turning off those bloody fans for another year.