Summer ends this weekend. Technically, I know that summer doesn’t end until the Autumnal Equinox (September 22nd – mark your calendars) but there are other ways of marking time. And in the US Summer starts on Memorial Day, and ends on Labor Day.
Of course that’s the depressing way to look at it. It's also a beginning. It’s the start of the new school year, the new theater season, and (in Houston at least) it's the start of Fall Festival Season.
In the past week, I have received invitations to:
Not that I object, it’s just that the flood of invitations, reminders, & save the dates is a little overwhelming. Also, I feel sad that I didn’t really do anything this summer. I didn’t go anywhere. I didn't do anything out of the ordinary. I don’t have any stories to tell. I spent the summer going to work and making imaginary decorating plans for the house I bought. This was very practical, adult and mature of me, but so very dull. Thus, I’m feeling a sense of time wasted.
I think I’ll devote an evening this weekend to the ultimate in summer recreation – lying under a tree with a big drink, pretending to read, watching the dragonflies and enjoying the day.
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