The Last Hurrahs

I can't believe the summer is winding down. I've already noticed the days growing shorter. The sun doesn't wake me up at 5 a.m. any more. The birds are quiet instead of calling to each other at 4:30 a.m. every morning. I think it's because the spring dating scene ended a while ago (they say the early bird gets the worm, but I think it's more like the early bird gets the girl). The sun is setting a little bit earlier too. On the other hand, my cornstalks are nearly as tall as I am (I'll try to post a picture soon), the pumpkins are shooting vines through the cornstalks and sporting salad plate-size orange blossoms. I know it's late for those plants to be reaching their peak, but I got started with them late. Guess I'll be praying for a late, late frost. Back-to-school sales have been going for about three weeks now, and I haven't even been to one. Bronwyn keeps asking when it's time to do some school shopping. Ick.

Back-to-school means the end of the flexible life and the return to a disciplined schedule. In some cases that's a good thing -- regular bedtime, more consistent scripture reading time, cooler night-time weather. But this time of year also brings back carpool arrangements, homework (ugh!), and figuring what to get for school lunches that's somewhat healthy AND appealing to my kids AND filling. It means no more shopping buddies. And this year I have to figure out how to accommodate a high school freshman and his morning schedule with elementary students who don't have to be out the door for two hours later. When are we going to fit scripture reading into that kind of a time frame? Owen will leave for school by 6:40 a.m. every morning. The other kids don't have to be out the door until 8:30 a.m. I have two weeks to nail this all down.

You know, that's just the nature of Autumn. It's a melancholy time of year. I love the warm, golden colors, especially the sunshine that seems richer and deeper than in mid-July. I love the smells of autumn, like earthy, woodsy fall leaves composting in wind-blown piles. There is a sense of settling in, calming down, slowly exhaling after the whirlwind of summer. But it's sad too. My children are one year older and spending more time away from home. I wonder about all of the things I never managed to squeeze into the summer hours, feeling like I missed out on something. Was it okay we never made it to Cascade Springs? Are my children going to feel deprived because we didn't go to an Owlz baseball game? Well, they're just going to have to be okay. Or go tell it all to a therapist later.

There are two weeks left of freedom. I will be spending it out doing stuff with my kids. Once I get that next batch of green beans canned tomorrow.