Summer weekend mornings

Most mornings are a scramble. Slapped awake by the alarm clock. Blinded by the jarring shock of lamplight. Stumble to the bathroom. Fumble for contact lenses. Toothpaste. Gah, the water is never really warm enough when I step in the shower. And from there it's go, go, go - hair dryer, eyeliner, earrings, wrangle a kid to school, barely kiss a husband on the way out the door.

Breakfast? No time. Coffee? Ha. Lunch? Forgot to bring it - again. Hurry, hurry, no matter how early I get up.

Then sit in traffic.

Weekend mornings are supposed to be a reprieve from the workday chaos: sleeping late, lounging in PJs and watching TV. I do this when I can, but then I often find myself playing catch-up. The movie matinee starts soon and I haven't showered yet. The doorbell just rang and I'm still in PJs. A friend wants to grab lunch and do a little shopping, but my hair is a bird's nest. We need to leave for church and I haven't even finished my coffee.

And so it's the familiar morning scramble imposing on my weekend.

Saturday morning, I took a different approach. I slept until I woke on my own - no alarm - but instead of acknowledging the morning, comforting myself with "It's the weekend," and then rolling over to sleep another hour or so, I got up. It was early - depending on your definition of early - 7 a.m. or so, and I opted to take a quiet stroll around my yard and gardens, coffee in hand.

It was an overcast morning, which kept the summer temperature tolerable. I listened to birds chirp, cackle and chase. I hung out with my dog - the only other resident of my house who was awake - and just took it all in.

There was only one hiccup.

Hello, my name is Jax, and I immediately regret my decision to poop on the patio. I have ample green space for this purpose and it is unacceptable for me to misuse this space as such. I also regret having made this egregious error within the direct vicinity of my mommy while she was having her morning coffee on said patio. And while my given name is technically not "Dammit Jax" I now realize it is in my best interest to respond to it when called and not tuck my tail and try to hide from Mommy. I have learned my lesson and will do better in the future. - Sincerely, Jax.

I met the rest of my day at my own pace.

I enjoyed the start to my Saturday morning so much, I decided to continue the vibe this morning. Up shortly after 7 again, I sipped my coffee while curled up on the couch and then threw some comfy clothes on and headed up the road about a mile to the local high school, the school my son attends.

I walk here all the time, but this Sunday morning, without the hubbub of practices, tournaments, classes and other school-related activities going on (yes, even in summer), it was remarkably peaceful, almost park-like. In fact, there is a lovely garden in the back of the school that I usually whizz past while exercising, but decided to stop and explore a little more closely today.

I had a nice workout and was home in time to have breakfast and pull myself together for church. No rush, no fuss.

Not every weekend will lend itself to this sort of schedule. There will be many times when I need to sleep later out of necessity or get up much earlier to conquer a busy day before daylight.

But stepping out of the house when I don't actually need to, just for the mere enjoyment of it helped me see the day at its start - and the world around me - in a different, less hurried way.

"An early morning walk is a blessing for the whole day" - Henry David Thoreau

Summer shake up

"Mom, this thing is ancient."

Ancient? Um, no, son, it's not "ancient." It was actually a wedding gift ... in 1993.

That makes it old enough to buy me a beer. 

If it were a person ... who had beer money.

Anyway, my son excavated the relic out of the top kitchen cabinet for me after I mentioned in passing that I can just make milkshakes at home when he craves a cool summer treat (as opposed to the snow cone maker he was insisting we purchase).

"How long have you known how to make milkshakes, Mom?"

"Um, since forever."

He was shocked and disappointed. I dunno. Milkshakes are relatively cheap (clean and easy) to pick up in the drive-thru nowadays, so I just kind of never really thought to make them at home.

So I picked up the necessities (frozen yogurt, chocolate syrup and skim milk - no need to make this fattening) and put the prehistoric blender back in business.

Bend-y straw = required

Yum. The perfect summer indulgence.

Jax likes a scoop of vanilla fro-yo. More please.

The calendar tells us Saturday is the official beginning of summer, but it's been in full swing here for a couple of weeks now.

Except, not really.

School's been out two weeks (thanks, snow days, for the late ending to the school year), but my son has been taking a driver's ed class daily (he has his learner's permit!) at school, and an online health class to make room in his schedule for something more interesting during the school year. That means he's been getting up early, spending part of the day at school and doing homework at night.

Homework. In June.

The thing is, the new school year starts next month.

School. In July.

In between, he has to get in a stay-cation with his dad and me, a trip to the beach with friends, golf, swimming, late-night video game parties, sleeping in, matinee movies, drive-in movies, reading the stack of books he has set aside, band practice, band camp, more band practice, and just hanging out with friends.

Somehow I think he'll manage to get it all in. Kids are motivated like that.

I work year round and so my leisurely summer days are very limited. Still, much like my son, I'll try to get in as much enjoyment as I can. My kind of fun revolves around gardening, daydreaming about autumn and avoiding bugs, the sun and excessive sweat.

I'm not a summer girl.

But I do like the long days that begin before I wake and stretch streaky pink-purple and glowing orange well into the evening hours when I would otherwise be sporting PJs.

And flowers in bloom.

And sitting on my patio.

And fresh tomatoes. And sweet corn. And a burger from the grill. And red, white and blue bunting draped across porches. And fireflies twinkling in the field across from our house.

And date nights with my husband, holding hands, walking downtown in the evening after dinner.

And homemade chocolate shakes.

Hmmm ... Maybe I am more of a summer girl than I realized.

A party or two

Chocolate-covered strawberries.

Fun and festive.

That's how I would describe last weekend, Friday through Monday night. I had four events/parties to work, attend or host.

Exhausting - that's another another word I'd use too.

Complaining? Not really. I have no complaints.

Jars of fresh-cut sunflowers and candles make pretty summer party table decor.

I'm grateful for the fun occasions. They just wore me out.

In a good way. Like, "Wow ... such fun" - and also like, "Wow ... wish I had time for a nap."

Friday, was a midday work event. It was a fancy luncheon for a lot of good people. There was a string quartet, notable speaker, awards and recognition, and a yummy dessert (essential for success, in my book). It was an event steeped in tradition and people genuinely seemed to enjoy themselves. That's what we're shooting for.

I would love to show you pictures from it, but I was too busy working.

Saturday was a chocolate-themed garden party. Guests brought chocolate desserts and it was just a lovely night. And delicious. I even wore a proper party dress.

I would love to show you pictures from it, but I was too busy enjoying myself.

Sunday was our very own annual cookout. We hosted more than 20 guests, grilled 24 half chickens and another 20 pound of potatoes. Lots of food and laughter.

And leftovers.

I would love to show you lots of pictures from it, but I was too busy enjoying myself and my guests. 

Chocolate-dipped pretzels, served in a bucket filled with M&Ms.

Monday, I made some sweet treats for a very girlie  and proper tea party for a young friend of the family. It was so fun to watch those teen girls, all decked out in fancy party dresses, celebrate friendships.

I would love to show you pictures from it, but I was too busy enjoying myself.

My social calendar is rarely so party-filled all at once. Even at the holidays, I tend to get at least a day in between events.

This weekend, however, is back to normal, with little fanfare. That's okay.

You don't always need to have a party to celebrate the good times in life.

But, then again ... why not?

"The more you praise and celebrate your life, the more there is in life to celebrate." - Oprah Winfrey

No complaints

I am super busy this week at work.

Like, nutty busy. My eye twitched so hard today, it stayed shut for an extra beat longer than it should have.

But I have no complaints.

We are hosting an event this weekend and my house is ... well, it's dirty. Like, no-one-cleaned-me-all-winter dirty.

I'm okay with it.

I saw a huge lizard the size of a a baby dinosaur - you know, the ones that eat human flesh - run into my garage and vanish among the clutter.

Stressed?

Okay, that weirds me out a little, but it's fine.

It's fine. Really.

 

A trip last weekend to a historic herb farm about an hour away left me feeling relaxed, cheerful and a little blissful.

And it's stuck with me so far this week.

 

The farm is Stream Cliff Herb Farm and you can learn more about it here. If you are ever in southern Indiana, I highly recommend stopping by.

It's a humble place, whose history dates back to 1821. Seven generations have lived on the farm and today it includes a private residence built in the 1830s and several out buildings, converted over the years into shops, a tea room, craft house and winery. There are soothing secret gardens and greenhouses bursting with flowers. Vegetable starts and herbs are just waiting for a home in your garden and, eventually, your kitchen table.

A friend and I took our time strolling the grounds and taking in the sights, gathering inspiration for our own yards from the weedy-casual, yet time-perfected, gardens. We chatted and laughed over a delish lunch garnished with edible flowers and herbs from the property. I savored my glass of punchy-sweet lemonade like it was dessert.

And then we shared a hunk of hummingbird cake for a real dessert. It was so rich, we couldn't even finish it.

 

Heaven.

I've been able to carry that relaxed vibe with me - for the most part - the rest of this week. There was something just, I don't know ... special ... about the aged beauty of the property: the juxtaposition of a practical working farm against the girlie-indulgence of overflowing pink flowers; the crowd of happily chattering (mostly) ladies; and the potential greatness that simmers in every summer garden. Maybe a little of that grace rubbed off on my weary attitude.

Oh, I'm sure it'll all fade soon enough, as the long commute, endless deadlines, forgotten grocery lists, dog-nose smeared windows, cat barf-stained linens, constant kid taxi and burning-tire smell of dropped pizza cheese in the oven will wipe it all away.

Until then, however, I have no complaints.