Goodbye Boys of Summer

My kids start school next week, and the thought of this makes me very sad. The beginning of school means the end of summer, and I’m not ready for summer to say goodbye.

I haven’t gotten quite enough baseball yet. There is nothing that says summer like the sound of a bat cracking as it hits the ball. I need more Saltdogs games and more ice cold beers. I need to hear the lemonade man yelling “lem-o-naid, lem-o-naid, lem-o-naid wooooooooo,” at least four more times.

I haven’t gotten enough sweet corn yet. There is nothing that says summer to me like a pile of fresh sweet corn, even if it means having to put up 200 bags at some point in the 100 degree weather. I need more grilled steaks, grilled hamburgers, and grilled brats. Summer is the only time my husband proudly cooks a meal, plus I don’t have to do the clean up. And I still need more plates of fresh garden tomatoes. And more lemonade and sun tea and watermelon and zucchinis and cucumbers and eggplant. Are you starting to sense a pattern? Summer comes with lots of fresh food. And food is big at our house. Really big. Even our dog is "big boned."

I need to smell more fresh-cut grass. That is always one of the first signs of summer to me, the smell of fresh-cut grass. I haven’t gotten enough of it. (Yes, I would buy this as a candle fragrance.) I have, however, gotten enough eyefulls of men mowing shirtless. Why is it that the guys you wouldn’t mind mowing shirtless keep their muscles covered, while the blindingly white older guys strip their shirts off as soon as the temperature hits 70? That’s an image that scalds itself into your eye sockets -- you just can’t forget. Life is so unfair.

We need to do more fishing. We didn’t get enough early morning trips to Wagontrain to our favorite fishing hole. I’ve still got bait in the fridge. (I’ve got to get that out of there.) Joe didn’t get to eat enough sunflower seeds in the boat and I didn’t get to fry enough fish. I bought a new fish breading basket and everything. And we didn’t even take the camper out of the driveway once. We tried twice, but it was 60mph gusts with tornado watches every time we planned to go earlier this summer. We might have to camp in the driveway one night just to say we used it. How sad is that?

So this week we are going through all the school clothes to decide what fits and what we need. We are emptying out the old backpacks to see what school supplies will work for next year, and what we don’t have on the school supply list. Instead of talking about grilling burgers, we will be talking school lunches. And the smell of fresh cut grass will soon be replaced by freshly sharpened pencils (which I actually find very pleasant and would buy as a candle fragrance, as well).

I may actually be sad this year when I drop the kids off for their first day of school. In the past I generally went skipping out of there, waiting, of course, until the kids were safely out of sight. And the beginning of school always meant that my birthday was just around the corner. But that was back when birthdays were landmark events. Now they come with more age spots and grey hairs (neither of which I think I should be getting yet because I do not think I am that old. I mean really.)

We had a great summer together. We went on vacation, the kids actually did a few chores, and they made their own lunches -- for the most part. Granted, I rarely got to watch any of the shows I would have liked to watch, and several more of my brain cells died when Joe turned on Sponge Bob. But it will be difficult when the house is quiet. This week has gotten me feeling very melancholy.

It may still be hot outside, but my heart says the season is passing. I better buck up and embrace the change. Book bags and homework, piano lessons and football practice, they are all scheduled and waiting. But the smell of football pads in the morning . . . well that’s definitely not a trade I’m ready to embrace no matter what time of year.

In the Summertime by Mungo Jerry  (This is worth watching just to look at the sideburns.)

Summer in the City by Lovin' Spoonful  (Again with the sideburns.)

Summertime Blues by Eddie Cochran  (Oldie but a goodie.)

The Boys of Summer by Don Henley (End of summer song.)