We have reached the end of another summer and this week was the beginning of our 19th consecutive school year. When I think of that it blows my mind. I have been doing this for a looong time. What's really strange is only getting one child ready for school. The biggest change since the 'awesome' two years I had 3 kids in 3 different schools. I was thrilled when that was over and I have to say I will be thrilled in 2013 when I never have to do this again. And yes, I mean that. : )If even one of my kids had been excited about being there I might feel differently. As it is the youngest regularly states that she is ready for high school to be over so she can move on with her life. Ditto.
So, how are we ending our summer....?
Biggest called. She said:
"Decent Guy and I went to- 'the historical town nearby'. We wanted to go for a quiet nighttime bike ride. It was horrible! The place was crawling with packs of juvenile delinquents roaming the streets and drunks pouring out of the bars. It was ridiculous! It used to be such a quiet, peaceful place! Now it's out of control. We went down the street where 'a landmark cemetary' is and it used to be a nice ride. Now they have some bar right next to it blaring techno music! It was disgusting! It's disrespectful! The whole place was full of drunks and punk ass teenagers and the cops aren't doing anything! and more....and more.....
I said:
"You are completely right! That is ridiculous! You just put it very well. As a visitor you should let the city know how you feel. They depend on tourism. You should write a letter to the City Council, their local Newspaper and their Chamber of Commerce!... I'm not laughing. What do you mean laughing?
Why would I be laughing? No I'm not.... ; )"
Middlest finally wore me out. She applied to a few different colleges. Dithered..procrastinated...hemmed and hawed. Then she decided not to go anywhere and to postpone school for awhile and work full time at the sub shop she's been working at since November and do art festivals. Yeah. Ok....I surrender. But. Her ideas for her future career took an interesting and actually very appropriate twist. She isn't old enough to do what she's interested in yet and I decided not to blog about it yet because every time I post about something that I think is great and I think it will go well, it immediately falls apart. (Digression)- As witnessed by Americas Got Talent sending home one of the best performers ever on the show in favor of a dance troupe who were very talented - exactly like the other half dozen dance troups this year with the exception that they were dressed like zombies. Really? REALLY????
So anyway, more on Mids new idea next year if she follows through. In the meantime... a nearby college sent her a welcome letter for her enrollment and a Parking Pass yesterday. I told her it was a sign. "Apparently God enrolled you in college so you better call and find out what classes he signed you up for."
"Oh, and he wants you to get a drivers license."
This is a year for landmark birthdays at our house and Littlest will be ending the summer by turning 16 next week. She already has her gifts in the form of a heavy bag, gloves and shin guards and it has been determined that a big Sweet Sixteen party is not on the agenda. Her scraped knuckles and bruised shins will not be accessorizing any formal gowns and that is fine with her because as she says, "I don't actually like any of my friends anyway." Which is interesting because this morning she was commenting on three different groups of friends she has been dividing her time with. She stopped for a moment and pondered, "When exactly did I become a social butterfly?" When indeed.
And when exactly are you getting your drivers license?
Cause I'm as over being a taxi as I am high school. She doesn't even have a learners permit yet. But there's hope. After all, Middlest at least got her learners permit... two years ago.
And what about my goals? What have I accomplished this summer?
I did not clean out the closet under the stairs. I did not do any gardening. (Magic pumpkin vines not withstanding) I did not read as many books as I wanted to. I did not get much of a tan. I did not go on vacation (Again) but I also did not bring home any giant dogs to make up for it.
And last but not least, I obviously did not teach anyone to drive.
So for now,
TheSeaMonkey is beside himself with joy because he has a brand new surfboard and something to ride it on but I am feeling thankful that it appears (so far) I will not be eating canned beans by flashlight and awaiting the arrival of a free skylight on my roof this week. But my thoughts and prayers go out to all those that may find themselves in that predicament in the next few days.
I still have a week of August to get through and even longer until it feels like summer is actually gone but I am ready to get the hell out of here now. Let's send it out with MacNeice.
August is nearly over, the people
Back from holiday are tanned
With blistered thumbs and a wallet of snaps and a little
Joie de vivre which is contraband;
Whose stamina is enough to face the annual
Wait for the annual spree,
Whose memories are stamped with specks of sunshine
Like faded fleurs de lys.
Now the till and the typewriter call the fingers,
The workman gathers his tools
For the eight-hour day but after that the solace
Of films or football pools
Or of the gossip or cuddle, the moments of self-glory
Or self-indulgence, blinkers on the eyes of doubt,
The blue smoke rising and the brown lace sinking
In the empty glass of stout.
Most are accepters, born and bred to harness,
And take things as they come,
But some refusing harness and more who are refused it
Would pray that another and a better Kingdom
come,
Which now is sketched in the air or travestied in slogans
Written in chalk or tar on stucco or plaster-board
Back from holiday are tanned
With blistered thumbs and a wallet of snaps and a little
Joie de vivre which is contraband;
Whose stamina is enough to face the annual
Wait for the annual spree,
Whose memories are stamped with specks of sunshine
Like faded fleurs de lys.
Now the till and the typewriter call the fingers,
The workman gathers his tools
For the eight-hour day but after that the solace
Of films or football pools
Or of the gossip or cuddle, the moments of self-glory
Or self-indulgence, blinkers on the eyes of doubt,
The blue smoke rising and the brown lace sinking
In the empty glass of stout.
Most are accepters, born and bred to harness,
And take things as they come,
But some refusing harness and more who are refused it
Would pray that another and a better Kingdom
come,
Which now is sketched in the air or travestied in slogans
Written in chalk or tar on stucco or plaster-board
- Louis MacNeice, "Autumn Journal" 1939