Lazy, hazy days

My favorite season is fall, but summer runs a close second. Summer arrives and seems to say, “Hey, pull up a chair. Put your feet up. Thirsty? Have some lemonade. Eat an ice cream cone. Take a swim. Chill.”

And now that we’re past June, which was the most dismal, dreary, rainy June I can ever remember, we’ve been doing just that.

Summer seems to have a more leisurely pace than other seasons, and I say that even though I know nearly every weekend between now and mid-September is booked with some event or another.

Aside from that, we’re soaking up the summer as much as possible. We sit by the pond and watch the frogs sun themselves. We eat our lunch on a blanket in the backyard. We swim. In a matter of days, we’ll be filling buckets with wild raspberries.

Last night, we ventured into the yard to marvel at and chase fireflies. The girls ran through the nearly dark yard, arms outstretched until they closed around a firefly. They’d cup the tiny insect in their hands and peek in, watching the neon flash-flash-flash for a few seconds until they had their fill, then they’d release it into the dark.

Sometimes the bug would slip through their fingers and escape before they could steal a peek at it.

My baby, Peanut, is on the cusp of turning six. She’s lost a tooth and is entering kindergarten in a matter of weeks.

Loaf is becoming more independent by the day. She pushes my hands away repeatedly, declaring, “I can do it myself.”

There are probably only a few summers left of backyard picnics, chalk drawings on the front walkway, bubble-blowing contests and chasing fireflies through the yard.

And after that? Who knows? They will have new activities and interests that don’t involve me.

So excuse me if my blog is a bit neglected these days. I’m running, hands outstretched to see what I can catch. And hoping to get my fill of it before it slips away.