Summertime

Whoever said the living was easy this time of the year? If anything, it’s more stressful: getting the same amount of work done with fewer people, coping with more traffic, living with heat and humidity.


I find myself doing more laundry and more dishes.
Gardening has become a joyless, defensive exercise: fighting off bugs, weeds and guessing how much to water.
Kids who are in camp come home exhausted, and those who have nothing more to do than hang around the house are cranky and bored.
The good news is that the county fair is winding down: good and bad news, since there’s a poignancy about hosting, then losing, this little temporary village, but relief that the often low-rent crowds will soon go away. On the way back from a concert the other night, I heard a trashy wench complain about being “jewed”, and I can do without the people who loudly crab at their even louder, wailing kids.
The annual event I dread the most, the demolition derby, is over; it always draws the biggest crowds. Even the massive parking lot next door was filled to capacity.
The fair has been lucky this year, the weather has been favorable, and the income from admission fees is for a good cause, the maintenance of the grounds themselves. It’s so important to the organization, in fact, that the fair’s own Board of Directors is huge, enormous, probably triple the size of the average Fortune 100 company.
So, what’s been accomplished this week? Repotted and caged the tomatoes, hoping that I’m not killing them with kindness. Finally got a second garden hose. Put Step 3 down at Peter’s house, he took care of the mowing before and the watering afterwards. Got a haircut. Filled the truck, $2.749 a gallon, up to 20 cents less than Cape prices. Went to work every day. Saw a co-worker and his band perform at the fair.
Doesn’t sound like much, but it was enough.