“The morning had dawned clear and cold, with a crispness that hinted at the end of summer.”
The morning is so very pretty. The sun is brilliant. Only the leaves on the tallest trees are moving. A bit of last night’s chill is still in the air. The birds are in and out at the feeders. I stood at the deck rail, and the nuthatches flew right beside me to the big feeder. The dogs roamed the backyard but came back inside with me. It is their morning nap time.
During the summer, when I was a kid, the rules were few. I could stay out late, even when it started to get dark. Breakfast and lunch were catch as catch can. Supper was the only meal we all ate together. I was usually gone all day, but my mother never worried. Nobody worried back then. If she asked where I was going, I’d just say out as I seldom had a destination. I went everywhere on my bike. I watched the trains come and go the next town over. I biked to the zoo. At Weiss farm, I’d check out the cows. They used to walk the same way every time from the barn to the field. Their route was muddy and filled with hoof prints. They walked slowly. I’d either ride through the square or walk my bike on the sidewalk. The square always had shoppers. It was usually late afternoon before I’d get home. I was always tired.
My house needs cleaning, especially my kitchen floor. Also, as always, Henry’s hair is in dustballs which take to flight when I walk by them. My bed needs changing. The tables need to be polished; however, there is a problem with this list. I just don’t want to clean. I want those shoemaker’s elves to surprise me and clean while I’m sleeping.
My larder is near empty. I have some eggs, half a cucumber and some chicken in the freezer. I need a quick grocery store stop. If nothing else, I’ll buy bread, cream and some treats for Jack.
I have a concert today. We are playing songs from the 70’s. This week has been a busy uke week: concert on Sunday, practice on Tuesday, lesson and concert on Wednesday and today’s concert. Next week will also be busy and will include Monday’s concert in Hyannis, the last Monday concert of the season. The summer is almost wound down.
keepthecoffeecoming.blog 
August 23, 2024 at 1:11 pm
Hi Kat,
I can tell that summer is beginning to wane when the morning low is only 81°. The high is forecasted for 102°.
Times have changed dramatically from our youth. Today kids can’t just tell the parents, “I’m going out”, and not return until evening. Today, kids have to give the parents a proscribed itinerary. Also, everyone knew everyone else in the neighborhood and kids could get a lunch at any of their friend’s homes. Today, between allergies and not knowing your neighbors, a kid can’t just grab a PB&J sandwich along the way. I don’t want the liability of giving a kid a PB&J sandwich if they have a peanut allergy and go into anaphylactic shock.
We’ve lived in this house for four years and haven’t met either of our next door neighbors. Obviously, we moved in during Covid, which didn’t help. Newton Minnow, who was the F.C.C. Chairman in the 1960s said, “TV is a vast wasteland”. Today, that wasteland has been expanded to include your, 85 inch TV, your iPhone, iPad, and your computer.
I used to tell my classes a story about an incident I had in an airplane at an airport. However, I don’t tell it any longer because it involves a pay phone. It’s too much trouble having to explain to the youngsters, those under 50, what a pay phone was. Some of them thought I was making it up. 🙂
August 23, 2024 at 10:37 pm
Hi Bob,
We have cool nights now. I have had to shut windows. The days are much warmer but never as warm as your days.
My neighbors have changed. We all knew each other well, but those neighbors are gone. The neighbors across the street bought their house just after I bought mine. They have both passed. My friends moved to Florida and have also passed. I do know two sets of neighbors but not the rest.
In the house beside me are new tenants. My friends bought another house with land for his trucks and equipment. He is a landscaper, painter and much more. He kept the house but rents it. On the other side is a summer rental. The renters have been perfect. I do feel a bit isolated compared to just a few years ago.
We sing and play Kodachrome, Paul Simon’s song. I wonder how many in our audience understand it.