Dog Days of Summer (Friday Five)

Singing Owl posts today's RevGals Friday Five:

I love summer, and wait anxiously for it every year. So how is it that we have arrived at the hot and humid "Dog Days" of August, and I have not done nearly enough of what I planned to do? I want to pack in as much as I can before snow flies once again.

How about you? And what is happening for those of you who are in a different hemisphere than I, and it may be cold?


1. What is the weather like where you live?

This year: Miserable.  The heat has kept me from accomplishing much of anything.  I have clearly reached that stage in life in which the only acceptable outdoor temperatures range from 45 to 75.

2. Share one thing you love about this time of year.

Cold water.  To drink, to shower in, to wade and float and swim in.

3. Share one thing you do NOT love about this time of year.

I often skip the Friday Five,  because  either a question or the entire theme derails me right off the usually lighthearted path.  Since this time of year is now one of the worst for me and is the same for the same reason  for several other women I know, this is that question.  In three weeks one of my sons will turn 26, and the next day will be the second anniversary of his twin brother's death.  The end of the summer brings its own kind of hell.

4. How will you spend the remaining days leading up to Autumn?

The mixture of good and bad is intense.  The Lovely Daughter will be home from her camp counseling job, turn 23, move into her apartment (a whole block away), and start grad school -- all next week.  Her brother will start law school at the same time.  So I'll be hanging around to support them while I am getting ready myself for that repeat ordination exam (exegesis) at the end of the month.  (Sigh.  Yes, the timing could not be worse.)

5. Share a good summer memory.

Lots of those!  How about . . .  twenty years ago . . . the kids running around in a grassy space under some crab apple trees outside our Chautauqua vacation condo and the Lovely Daughter calling out, "Be careful! Be careful!  Don't let the crabs out!"

Bonus: What food says SUMMER to you?

Corn on the cob.  At the camp where The Lovely Daughter is presently ensconced, much of their food comes from the farm and is harvested by the kids.  "The end of summer?" she laughed as we drove down to North Carolina in June.  "Corn on the cob, corn chowder, cornbread, corn cakes . . .  "

Thanks, Singing Owl.