Laboriously Enjoying

by - 9:56 AM

Summer is over.

The boys are back in town. The kids are back in school. The summer haze is lifting and the pace is picking up again.
Papers are being written, winter clothes are being bought and God-forbid, Hobby Lobby has already set up their annual Christmas wonderland, simulataneous with jack-o-lanterns and purple glitter covered skulls in aisle four.
You know what that means...
No more white pants or white shoes until Memorial Day. If you believe that kind of thing.
Fall is coming. The holidays are coming. The summer is going.

It's the unofficial end to another summer.

It's getting dark early again.

In a few weeks, kids (and adults!) will start planning their halloween costumes. Then the natural progression of Thanksgiving to Christmas will take over and before you know it, we'll be facing a new year.

I'm not a forward thinker, I guess. I like to reminisce far too much to think about the future.
I won't start dreaming about a new halloween costume any time soon because I'm too busy waxing nostalgic about halloween past.
If Scrooge had a ghost of Christmas past, I swear to you, I'll have myself a ghost of halloween past.

Halloween 1993: the year my mom labored feverishly over a princess costume and handmade tiara. I must have worn it a hundred times post trick-or-treating.
Halloween 1996: the year my third-grade teacher, Mrs. Dingman, threw "halloween" into the weekly spelling test as a surprise. I spelled it right. Holla! Candy reward! But then I totally spelled it wrong when she asked me to put it up on the board. Fail.
Halloween 2000
: the year I got lost in a subdivision a hundred acres huge with my best friend. For hours.
Halloween 2008: the day my parents finally met my boyfriend. The day I suggested that he was my boyfriend and the day a smile sealed the deal forever.

See how nice it is to reminisce?

This was the weekend we said au revoir to the summer of 2012.
The heat has lasted beyond the holiday and I'm certain it will last somewhat fragmented over the next few weeks, but this is the final weekend of easy-breezy-summer.

I decided to clutch tightly to the hands of summer and relish in it one more time.
I walked. I stayed up late. I layed in the sun too long. I attained rosy cheeks. I ate ice cream. I read lazily, indulged incredibly and loved every single second of it.

And I savored, knowing all the while, it was never coming back.

Oh sure, the sky will be blue again and the sand will be lush and warm and the water will lap lovingly at the shore again next year, but it will be different.
So much can change in a year. Who knows how wildly different next year could be from this year.

On Sunday, Jack and I indulged in our favorite up north activity.

The beach.

Puppy brought his gills and I brought my kindle.
It was off the freakin' charts.

A hundred bucks in imaginary money if you know what I'm reading. 
Without Googling. Cheater cheater pumpkin eater.  

Four hours later, we finally meandered home. 

Monday dawned with the subtle reminder that the sun still shines in winter.
Oh yes, it's coming, but the sun comes with it. 

Boo-hiss, summer is ending and I knew it wasn't just in my head when I ventured out for one last ice cream cone on the pier and there was a sign on the door:

Summer hours conclude on September 3. See you next summer!

Tragedy among all tragedies. Could Wm. Shakespeare write such sadness? 

I walked that pier with the most bizarre sense of foreboding.
Fall is right around the corner and that was my last walk on the pier before it's too cold to be any kind of enjoyable.
But the sun kindly sparkled on the water and it was the perfect send-off.

And then there was this guy:
Unafraid to take his paddle board out far beyond the reaches of any buoy and into the great big depths of Lake Michigan. Fearless, I thought. Entirely fearless. And he's doing it right.

When it was time to say goodbye, I was ready, as I always am.
Ready to head into a new academic year. Ready to greet my favorite season and jump into the parading procession of holidays. Ready for twinkle lights and hot chocolate. Ready for warm quilts, cuddling on the couch and steaming tomato soup.
Ready to move on.

My crazy puppy was ready too. We hopped in the car and he promptly moved to hang his head out the front window.
Taking it all in, he looked forward to moving onward.

Fast. Wind in his hair kind of adventure is what he is looking for.
You go, Glenn-Coco.

This House.

This has nothing to do with anything, but when I passed this house, I swear to God, I could smell the crunch of falling leaves and pumpkin spice pie in the oven. I just breathed in the scent of fall.
I'd live in October forever if I lived in this house.

And in another completely non-related direction, I present this: proof that I can do something productive in the kitchen.
I had to post this or nobody would believe that it actually happened. So family members, this is predominantly for you.

I digress:
Oreo Crispies, made entirely by yours truly.

This is straight up, nothing but oreos, marshmallows and butter.
Good thing I got a smokin' deal on these:

It's a good good good life.

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