The summer’s started to feel slow. It’s not really slow, with the kids going to camps and on adventures though, we’re not spending as much time together as we did in the Spring, so even though we’re busier, the pace is slow. The lazy warmth of the rare San Francisco summer sunny day is adding to the feeling. Things will get done when they get done, only camp arrivals and pickups set milestones in our daily schedules at this point.
In this summer saunter, I find my subconscious figuring out more things to do with the gang, things to learn, things to experience, things to relish as we plunge into their newness. And yet, there is nothing to be done, because there’s no one to do it with. Our opportunities for learning, exploring, and meeting will return soon enough. Camp season only lasts five or six weeks, then we’ll be back to the ins and outs, strewing and exploring. It seems like I should be doing more; I’m ever so slowly convincing myself that a little drowsy break in the midst of our rapid lives is OK. I wonder if I’ll be convinced by the time camps are over?
For the gang, the pace is just the opposite, packed to the point of chaos. No. One wakes up early to catch the bus with me that will take us an hour across San Francisco to her camp. We get there early so she’s got 15 minutes to run around and play on the lawn out front; then it’s into camp. There’ll be a lunch break, but most of the day is spent learning new things, applying them, working with her newly met teammates. Next week we’ll get a double dose of camp as Two heads out to his camp. Our city did away with kindergarten prep camp this year in favor of sports. Two loved kindergarten prep, but he loves playing outside too. I’m sure his take will be interesting and unexpected in some way—it always is—but I’m also sure he’ll love every moment of camp. Just as we’re winding down into our little one week break in-betweenst camps the grandparents will arrive. More lazy chaos. We’ll wander about town. I hope they can make it to the camp closing presentations. We’ll eat tacos past bedtime down on our little neighborhood’s main street.
It’ll all be over soon enough. We’ll get back to our regular routine of no routine. For now though, camp makes for a sort of Sargasso doldrums—a calming span across the summer sea.
In this summer saunter, I find my subconscious figuring out more things to do with the gang, things to learn, things to experience, things to relish as we plunge into their newness. And yet, there is nothing to be done, because there’s no one to do it with. Our opportunities for learning, exploring, and meeting will return soon enough. Camp season only lasts five or six weeks, then we’ll be back to the ins and outs, strewing and exploring. It seems like I should be doing more; I’m ever so slowly convincing myself that a little drowsy break in the midst of our rapid lives is OK. I wonder if I’ll be convinced by the time camps are over?
For the gang, the pace is just the opposite, packed to the point of chaos. No. One wakes up early to catch the bus with me that will take us an hour across San Francisco to her camp. We get there early so she’s got 15 minutes to run around and play on the lawn out front; then it’s into camp. There’ll be a lunch break, but most of the day is spent learning new things, applying them, working with her newly met teammates. Next week we’ll get a double dose of camp as Two heads out to his camp. Our city did away with kindergarten prep camp this year in favor of sports. Two loved kindergarten prep, but he loves playing outside too. I’m sure his take will be interesting and unexpected in some way—it always is—but I’m also sure he’ll love every moment of camp. Just as we’re winding down into our little one week break in-betweenst camps the grandparents will arrive. More lazy chaos. We’ll wander about town. I hope they can make it to the camp closing presentations. We’ll eat tacos past bedtime down on our little neighborhood’s main street.
It’ll all be over soon enough. We’ll get back to our regular routine of no routine. For now though, camp makes for a sort of Sargasso doldrums—a calming span across the summer sea.
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