When I went to school in the days of old, first thing we had to do when we came back to class in September was to write about what we did on our summer vacation. Old habits are hard to break.
I didn’t go anywhere thrilling, except, of course to visit nearby family and friends. I went to movies, now and then, and restaurants, of course. But no exotic isles or foreign lands for me this year.
Instead, I worked on the finishing touches for my next book, out in December, from AVON: A BRIDE FOR HIS CONVENIENCE. That was good.
And I started a trilogy for AVON, one that sent me back to my history books, because it is set against the rise and fall of Napoleon. I am newly fascinated by a period of history I have always loved.
And the rest of the time?
After a springtime of planning and planting my garden, and setting my itty bitty fishpond in order, when August blew its hot breath on me I lounged in the shade and read books, and lazed.
I stayed indoors a lot too, because I am suddenly photosensitive.
I entertained old friends and dear family.
I read lots of fantasy novels, some mysteries, historicals, and of course, some fictional l’amour.
I watched re-runs on TV.
I saw over-rated flix at the movies.
It was delicious. I felt no need to diet to fit into a new swimsuit. I didn’t have to wait on the tarmac for hours while my pilot went out to take some brush-up courses in how to land a plane. I didn’t have to whip off my shoes, walk through metal detectors, and gaze nervously at fellow passengers, playing
my favorite airport game: "which one is the terrorist?"
Nor did I have to buy tourist guides or learn to say "Where is the toilet
please?" in several languages.
I loafed so much that I made all the pumpernickels and ryes in the area
ashamed of themselves.
But I am an American, and so of course I feel guilty about how I wasted away the days in Vacationville.
So how to show you that I had a really good time, without being able to send you all picture postcards that you’ll receive in November?
Margaret Evans Porter, an old friend, fine writer and ace NH Rep, has a fantastic blog about her house and garden on the lake, and her lake cottage too.
I have a mere quarter acre and a fishy pond in front of a thicket of bamboo. That’s where I made most of my summer memories this year.
The one good thing I did in the midst of all my lassitude was to take photos of such stellar activities as Miss Daisy burying bones, sunning herself and playing with my grandson, Hugo the Magnificent, and his little dog Stan.
I did my best to record the slow, shuffling hours.
I fed birdies and grew flowers, and read and wrote and scratched a lot because we have been infested with teensy mosquitoes so troublesome that even the good gray New York Times wrote about them.
This autumn I plan to do more! This winter I will be a cyclone of activity. I will travel and write and read and whip myself into something hopefully resembling an active human being.
But this was my lazy daisy summer.
Go ahead, unmake my day. Tell me what you did this summer.