Another solstice
Last year, I wrote about the first day of summer from a hillside at a park overlooking the city. I was back there again this year -- third year in a row -- but this time not writing, but playing with the boys.
Wife is on a team running the Wasatch Back -- a 181-mile relay -- this weekend, and I am watching the boys (who thankfully fell asleep for me without her here). Littlest got a really late nap, so we went out for dinner later, drove around, and went to Donner Park to play and watch the sunset. I didn't think Eldest was going to make it, but then he said he wanted to watch the sunset, then got to the park, met a new friend and was totally oblivious. No matter, at least I got to watch the sun descend below Antelope Island on the longest day of the year. No writing at the park, of course, but it was worthwhile nonetheless.
The solstice is a little bittersweet for me this year. We knew this summer was going to be a blur, and so far, it seems to be the case. Maybe it's the rotten spring that didn't prepare me enough for this day. Maybe it's the extra nights of work I've taken on (I just finished a 10-shifts-in-15-days stretch, it's a mild anomaly because I needed this weekend off, but that's still almost full-time nights when I don't want to work full-time nights) that's impeding the summer. Maybe it's the knowledge vacation is less than four weeks away, and when we get back, it always feel like summer is kaput. I know it's only June 20th, but the summer is in full blur.
So what are you gonna do about it? -- I asked myself. Screw the bittersweet. My schedule before vacation eases, and then we're on vacation. The weather is hot again, enjoy it. Put the GameBoy down (I have a post to write about that) and focus on play and writing. There's about 80 days left before the boys start up school again and when I'm calling the summer as over. That's 80 great, fun days ahead; 80 days not to waste. It might be a blur, but it doesn't mean the blur can't be excellent.
Wife is on a team running the Wasatch Back -- a 181-mile relay -- this weekend, and I am watching the boys (who thankfully fell asleep for me without her here). Littlest got a really late nap, so we went out for dinner later, drove around, and went to Donner Park to play and watch the sunset. I didn't think Eldest was going to make it, but then he said he wanted to watch the sunset, then got to the park, met a new friend and was totally oblivious. No matter, at least I got to watch the sun descend below Antelope Island on the longest day of the year. No writing at the park, of course, but it was worthwhile nonetheless.
The solstice is a little bittersweet for me this year. We knew this summer was going to be a blur, and so far, it seems to be the case. Maybe it's the rotten spring that didn't prepare me enough for this day. Maybe it's the extra nights of work I've taken on (I just finished a 10-shifts-in-15-days stretch, it's a mild anomaly because I needed this weekend off, but that's still almost full-time nights when I don't want to work full-time nights) that's impeding the summer. Maybe it's the knowledge vacation is less than four weeks away, and when we get back, it always feel like summer is kaput. I know it's only June 20th, but the summer is in full blur.
So what are you gonna do about it? -- I asked myself. Screw the bittersweet. My schedule before vacation eases, and then we're on vacation. The weather is hot again, enjoy it. Put the GameBoy down (I have a post to write about that) and focus on play and writing. There's about 80 days left before the boys start up school again and when I'm calling the summer as over. That's 80 great, fun days ahead; 80 days not to waste. It might be a blur, but it doesn't mean the blur can't be excellent.
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