First thought: this photo has nothing to do with this post.
Which is pretty much the point. I’m sort of out of gas.
It happens to me every summer! Every summer.
I don’t know why I’m still surprised, but what can I say? I apparently don’t learn from the past.
In June, there is nothing on earth more enticing to me than the idea of a whole day at home by myself. In August, I’m getting a little bored with only me for company.
In June, the smell of the charcoal grill is like a siren song, calling me to days and nights of warmth and comfort. I love the lingering smell of hickory smoked chicken in my hair as I go to bed late, late on an early summer night.
In August, I yearn for the smell of baking apples and the warmth of the oven on a cool evening. That rich charcoal smell now makes me think of forest fires and charred hot dogs. I’m all done.
Ah, and in June, in June, in the lengthening days of June, this teacher craves a week without a single essay to correct, or lunch line to organize, or best friend conflict to mediate. In June, the idea of a world empty of children’s voices sounds like the very definition of peace.
But come August, this aging teacher begins to dream of children past. Their bright eyes and bubbling laughs fill me with longing. This old teacher, mother of all grown up children, starts to gravitate toward the groups of kids on the beach, hoping to be invited in to look at the tide pool.
I can tell that summer is winding down. There are so many unmistakable signs. The days grow just a little bit shorter. The nights are almost crisp. The leaves are beginning to curl, and turn brown or red. The goldenrod is sprouting in every open field.
I can tell that summer, for all its glory and its gifts, is drifting toward its close. My house is so clean that I barely recognize it. The windows sparkle, the basement has been swept. The siding was washed of all of its algae and today I found myself taking apart window fans so that I could scrub them clean before putting them back together.
I know for sure that summer is past its prime, because I am really eager to see the names on next year’s class list. I have started to organize my “Week One” files, and I am making little maps to reorganize my classroom.
Thank you so much, Summer of 2014~ you have been a joy and a pleasure. I intend to thoroughly enjoy every day you have left.
But bring on the kids pretty soon, OK? Its getting a little boring out here.