These Summer Days

There was a chill in the air yesterday morning, so much so that I dug out a pair of knitted slippers from my sadly unorganized tote of knitted accessories that dwells in the bottom of my closet. Fall was trying to creep in. Just a bit. All tricky tricky.

I am just not ready.

These summer days have been so perfect. Hot, but perfect. The fleeting moments of poolside knitting while Husband and Reed take the requisite afternoon nap. The patch of sunflowers, nearly done blooming. (Should I plant another round? Yes!) The long hours of daylight that warms my soul forever and ever and ever, my absolute favorite. The blackberry picking, nearly done for the year.

Or days like yesterday, an afternoon spent on the Trinity River, ever weary that a shovelful of sand may be flung my direction at any moment. I spent an in ordinate amount of time trying to convince Reed that the turtle basking on a rock wore the same type of sunscreen we did (Babyganics SPF 50). He didn’t buy it…Too smart, that one. (How do you get your little ones to wear sunscreen?)

I know we have another month or more of afternoons passed swimming in the pool or at the river, but I also know the water will grow a bit crisper each occasion, just like these cool mornings. Only a bit. Until one day, I will gasp when I plunge into the water and dash for my beach towel just that much quicker. And swimming will be over for the year.

I am trying to stay present. In the moment. Not mourn a season that isn’t even over yet. Maybe this is my reminder. To treasure it all. Each hour. It’s going to be over soon. Too soon. The summer knitting. This special time with my young, playful, willful, adorable, insanely messy son. My favorite peach tree (already eaten, every last fruit) and my most yearned for crop of seedless green Himrod grapes. All of it. Just like my sunflower patch.

There is so much on my summer wish list I know just won’t happen. Again. Little things. My hanging flower baskets on the front porch look lackluster this year still. They need plant food. More water. More care.

Next year.

But today—this summer day—I will cherish. All of it. Even though I have caught Reed’s cold and feel not-quite-human. And even though my living room floor is covered in an array of primary colored plastic building blocks (I am pretending not to notice they have also been cleverly stuffed between the couch cushions). Even though my kitchen sink is overflowing with yesterday’s dishes, left abandoned as we fled out the door to the river.

Today will be a great summer day. Each warm moment, wet or dry, Knit or unknit. Mess or no mess (probably a mess).

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  • Reply wolfberryknits July 25, 2015 at 10:12 pm

    Beautiful writing Andrea. I can see snow through my window right now in the Southern Hemisphere, and am almost completely opposite to you as I love the winter and absolutely dread the coming summer (so much so I can almost feel my psyche back-pedalling as it approaches) yet could still feel where you are and your love for it, and the meaning is the same. A great reminder to stay in the moment, thank you.

  • Reply nanacathy2 July 26, 2015 at 12:25 am

    A lovely celebration of the season and of the fleeting nature of childhood. The plastic bricks sit in the container in my home waiting for a visit from a grandchild to play with them once more

    • Reply Andrea @ This Knitted Life July 28, 2015 at 6:26 am

      So fleeting indeed. Those blocks will never biodegrade. Future archaeologists will dig them up an wonder what they were all,about…stick them in a museum with dinosaur bones.

  • Reply Kat July 26, 2015 at 5:21 am

    This is 100% the part of summer where it would not be terrible if it felt like September, but like you I am trying not to wish it away, because we spend all winter waiting to not freeze anymore! It’s a struggle sometimes.

    • Reply Andrea @ This Knitted Life July 28, 2015 at 6:27 am

      I know! I spend all winter loathing the dark and cold and wishing for summer. It is a sign I am supposed to be living in Hawaii.

  • Reply Tina July 26, 2015 at 10:14 am

    Lovely post Andrea. It’s been a strange summer in Phoenix. The mornings have been cool, in the high 70s to low 80s, which is odd for July. This morning the sky had the crisp blue look of fall. Makes one ponder if we all will have an early autumn and winter. Enjoy your days 🙂

  • Reply Andrea @ This Knitted Life July 28, 2015 at 6:28 am

    Thanks! I was thinking early fall for sure…until I saw it I supposed to be over 100 degrees for the next week straight. Possible to knit submerged in the pool?

  • Reply These Summer Days, Vol. 2 - This Knitted Life August 17, 2016 at 4:01 am

    […] I knit, my thoughts drifted to this time a year ago and all the days in between. Moments ago, I reread that post and feel I could write those same […]

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