Every year I choose goals--reading, eating, fun-time-having--for my summer. This will be the summer of picnics, this will be the summer of the beach, this will be the summer of Cape Cod...
But, summer, and time, for that matter, always defines itself.
Last summer, for example:
I don't think I would have chosen the summer of Costco, but, that's kinda what it turned out to be. Susanna and GK moved at the end of last August, and when we found out earlier that summer, the four of us made some sort of unconscious decision to spend as much time together as possible. So, each Thursday or Friday, Susanna and I would trundle off to Costco, where we would have lunch, browse through the books, and buy popsicles and salmon burgers. It was unforced and un-rushed, and, some of my favorite memories of last summer.
Last summer was the summer I watched Twilight for the first time (and second, and third, and fourth time). It was the summer I re-read Dandelion Wine. It was the summer I was cast in a Shakespeare company. It was the summer I grew tomatoes. It was the summer that came late and left early.
This summer, what did I choose? Books, right? I was going to read through the Strand 80 this summer. Instead, this is the summer of The Hunger Games. And it's magic. It's brutal magic.
I'm sure there's more to this summer. I'm positive. But, I can't see it, not quite yet. I'm still in it.
Fingers crossed for an Indian Summer.