Thursday, June 12, 2008

Summertime, and the living ain't easy....

For some reason I don't seem to get a lot of writing done in the summer. It's the season of sun and fun, right? I must be out cavorting at the pool, or reading in the hammock, or eating fresh cherries and spitting the pits at the cats; there must be all sorts of relaxing things I'm doing instead of writing, right?

Ennnnhhhh, wrong! I am not a summer person. First of all, I'm not a big fan of heat and humidity, since it tends to make me wheeze like a leaky balloon. Second, summer means "summer vacation," which means Boy is home full-time. Don't get me wrong, I love spending time with my son--probably more than he does with me, given that he's now fourteen and I have become totally embarassing--but day after day of "I'm booooooorrrrrred" gets tedious. (This year, ha ha ha, I made him think it was his idea to join Marching Band--four weeks of practice during the summer--and take a summer computer class, so that problem should be alleviated somewhat.)

Still, there are several things I enjoy about summer, although they take away from writing time. First of all, I don't have to get up before 7 am every weekday!! That means more glorious sleep, but less writing time. (Although I will argue that added sleep makes my brain more efficient. There must be some way to prove that I write more words per hour when I'm well-rested.)

The other thing I love about summer is my garden. As you can see from the picture, it's going gonzo right now: irises, columbines, geraniums, even the roses are starting to bloom. Unfortunately, that means it needs maintenance. If I want more blooms later in the summer, I need to get in there and deadhead the irises. It's very relaxing working in the garden, but I generally end up doing it in late afternoon, which is usually peak writing time for me. I also need to pick out all the sunflower sprouts from the back garden. The bird feeder is great for attracting everything from finches, sparrows, and cardinals (and grackles, blech) to a hawk that likes to eat sparrows (and grackles, yeah!). Whoops! Another reason to lose a little more writing time, staring at the birdies. (Or staring at my kitties staring at the birdies, which can be a hoot.)

Still, I can't complain too much. I'll bet that next February I'll reread this entry and think, "What was her problem? Crazy girl, at least she sees the sun more than once a week!"

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