4 a.m.
I had a feeling this would happen.
First Tuesday of vacation and I was wide awake at 3:00 in the morning.
Maybe it will get better.
Summer vacation seems like it takes so long to get here sometimes and then when it does, you wonder why the time is moving so fast. It's just how the rest of life goes, I suppose. So we enjoy each and every day of it while we make as many memories as possible. That idea sounds like a good one to me.
One of the 4th grade girls at school asked me last week what it was that kids did in the summer when I was a young girl. I'm sure I had a smile on my face when I gave my response.
"Well, we stayed outdoors a lot and we had to use our imagination instead of technology."
I remember life back then as if it was just last week.
How times have changed since the summer of 1964 when the quiet little 9-year old girl that I used to be enjoyed her first day of summer vacation. The old black and white TV that our family owned brought in only 3 stations and when the reception was bad you had to walk over and adjust the tinfoil that was wrapped around the antennae. The remote control was your own two feet and if you spun the dial to change the channels too quickly, you could be sure to be yelled at from any room in the house. The television didn't play nonstop either. Mostly we could choose one or two programs to watch and then it was off for the day. There was little negotiation on that issue. If it was off, then it was off and that would be the end of the discussion.
The outdoors was much more fun anyways. Our family was blessed to always have lived in the country and as a matter of fact, I only recall living in town for nine months while our parents remodeled a home south of Haven. You could be outdoors in the sunshine and gentle breeze, explore all of the places around you, and dream of things yet to come in your life. It seemed as if there were always animals around and they provided the entertainment for us all. Life in the country was a very good one.
Lots of memories from the days of my youth have become a part of my 60-year old memory bank. I will never forget the day that my little sister and I went out to check on our baby chicks and found a huge old bull snake systematically eating them up, one by one. That got a little bit exciting! If a snake could have died by two little girls yelling their lungs out at it, then that guy would have been gone in an instant. I remember our father making us an old rope swing every spring for us to use throughout the summer. He'd find a old board that he could notch the corners on to make it fit as a seat for us. We'd swing and swing all summer long until finally one day the frayed rope would say "no more". If you were lucky, you weren't the one on the swing at the time when it broke. We made mud pies, told stories, sang songs, read books, drew pictures on old brown grocery bags, wrote stories and a hundred other things to keep ourselves occupied. And yes, when we got thirsty we didn't run into the house and open up a soda or an energy drink. Our liquid refreshment did indeed come out of the end of the garden hose. The amazing thing was this.
We all survived.
My wish for all of my students and children everywhere for that matter, is that they have a good summer and that they make as many deposits in their memory banks as I have. I pray for their safety and well being. I want them to just enjoy being a "kid".
For me, well I'm not sure what all the summer will bring. Mike and I hope to do a bit of traveling and see more of the great state of Texas. We also seem to have aplenty to do around here, especially in the backyard. That's ok too. I love the outdoors. I hope to know within a few weeks where I might be able to spend my 39th year in education. My prayer for myself is that God puts me just where I am needed and I'm sure that will happen. I continue to wait in faith that something really good is being put into place for me.
I just have to be patient enough to wait and find out.
Happy Summer 2016 everyone out there!
A good deal of my summertime memories revolve around the wheat harvest. My father was a custom cutter for over 25 years. He began in May right in the area where Mike and I now live. His route took him all the way through the Great Plains states of Oklahoma, Kansas, Nebraska and the Dakotas. The picture above shows us during the summer of 1976 when we met up with him and his crew of workers near Kinsley, Kansas. Such a long, long time ago. I miss those days.
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