The Writing Mamas Daily Blog
Each day on the Writing Mamas Daily Blog, a different member will write about mothering.If you're a mom then you've said these words, you've made these observations and you've lived these situations - 24/7.
And for that, you are a goddess.
Thursday, May 24, 2007
Summertime
I hear Janis Joplin singing Summertime on the radio….
Summertime, time, time,
Child, the living’s easy.
As I hum the lyrics I look over my daybook filled with lists and items waiting to be crossed off. Tuesday: sign boys up for swimming lessons; sign boys up for summer camp; adjust expenses to accommodate for income over the summer; send in registration slip for kindergarten next fall; send in medical evaluation to school; weed garden; clean BBQ; start watering lawn daily; order new swim suits and flip flops and eye goggles for boys; arrange dates to visit my sister in L.A. this summer; make an appointment to get the car serviced for the long road trip; remember end of year school parties and events.
Child, the living’s easy.
I wait for summer every year. I dream about going to the beach and walking around the house with bare feet and eating ripe peaches and drinking cold beer with lime. The thought of summertime seduces me into thinking about lolling about with a lover in the lingering humidity of early evening with the windows opened to the smell of jasmine.
I think about going away to a quiet summerhouse where I read novels during the day and wonder at the vastness and beauty of the stars at night. I can feel my muscles relaxing, my pace becoming slower. My body holds memories of summer in its cells; it anticipates it.
Summertime may not be what it once was before I had children. It may not be quite as easy as it seemed for Janis, or as it seems in my summertime dreams. But it continues to seduce me, and I continue to wait for it every year.
By Lisa Nave
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Summertime, time, time,
Child, the living’s easy.
As I hum the lyrics I look over my daybook filled with lists and items waiting to be crossed off. Tuesday: sign boys up for swimming lessons; sign boys up for summer camp; adjust expenses to accommodate for income over the summer; send in registration slip for kindergarten next fall; send in medical evaluation to school; weed garden; clean BBQ; start watering lawn daily; order new swim suits and flip flops and eye goggles for boys; arrange dates to visit my sister in L.A. this summer; make an appointment to get the car serviced for the long road trip; remember end of year school parties and events.
Child, the living’s easy.
I wait for summer every year. I dream about going to the beach and walking around the house with bare feet and eating ripe peaches and drinking cold beer with lime. The thought of summertime seduces me into thinking about lolling about with a lover in the lingering humidity of early evening with the windows opened to the smell of jasmine.
I think about going away to a quiet summerhouse where I read novels during the day and wonder at the vastness and beauty of the stars at night. I can feel my muscles relaxing, my pace becoming slower. My body holds memories of summer in its cells; it anticipates it.
Summertime may not be what it once was before I had children. It may not be quite as easy as it seemed for Janis, or as it seems in my summertime dreams. But it continues to seduce me, and I continue to wait for it every year.
By Lisa Nave
Labels: Lisa Nave
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