Dear Summer,

Dear Summer,

Officially speaking, you reign for another 22 days, but...uh...lets get real.

Today is the last day of August. Labor Day is tomorrow. School begins on the 3rd. The leaves are already starting to fall.

Who are we kidding?

So, I'm callin' it.

Good bye, Summer - dear friend and fancy-free cohort.

Clearly, you're taking your leave, which should come as no surprise.

It's sort of an annual thing, right? I would know, seeing as I'm no spring chicken {as Mister so lovingly mentioned one day}.

But I'm still kinda sad.

Okay, really sad.

I miss your steamy days and balmy nights; your booze-hound benders and low cut tanks; your bonfire chatter and charcoal aroma.

Your good times never come with any strings - I like that about you.

So, let me return the favor: no more guilt trips, no more pining. {Can I pine for something before it's gone? Yep.}

A short and sweet farewell is in order, classy-like - in remembrance of you.

Until June, keep hot, sweet thang.

XOXO,
Meggie

Berry Magic

Berries.

When I think of my childhood, I can't help but think of berries.

I mean, they're not the only things that come to mind, but they're right up there with skiing, my big ol' family, sheep, tall grass, Chelan, marzipan, and bedtime stories.

Berries were just always around.

Salmon berries, huckleberries, and blackberries - we could find them all over our property.

And every fall, we picked enough blackberries to make pies throughout the coming months.

Our recipe is a special one, and it reminds me of my mom.

You bake the crust first {there is no top crust}, work some berry magic, pour the filling in, refrigerate, and voila!

It's usually eaten cold, which is divine.

The best pie ever, hands down. At least in my book.

For whatever reason, the last few summers have been sparse with the berries at my parents' place. Enough for them, but not for both of our families.

So, I took the kids and the puppy to our all-time favorite green space - Discovery Park.

We hiked up to our secret spot, and the four of them waded through the tall grass, lounged, and smeared themselves in berry juice.

Literally.

It was hot and there was some whining.

We're all a little scratched and bloodied.

The puppy pilfered enough from our bowls to guarantee a colorful evening of intestinal distress.

But I picked enough blackberries for two pies!

And it was so nice to enjoy the solitude and peace that often comes with gathering.

When I think of Autumn {yes, I know it's still summer}, I think of gathering.

Pumpkins, leaves, apples, evergreen boughs, berries. The coming together of loved ones.

I like gathering all sorts of things.

Maybe that's why I love this next season so very much.

And now the berries are cleaned and frozen.

Ready for berry magic.

Chill the Eff Out

Summer. Two and a half months of long, hot, wide-open days.

No school. No soccer or gymnastics. No hounding PTA emails. No frantic mornings and packed lunches.

Summer. Sounds pretty damn good to me.

Ironically, this spring I dreaded its onset.

After a year in which two of my children attended some form or another of school, I should have been ecstatic. Jumping for joy. Cart-wheeling down the street with a drink in my hand.

Instead, I was nervous.

For the FIRST time ever, summer had lost its shine.

Reason number one: Entertainment

Basically, we go from ultra-structured days to 'hmmmm, what should we do?' days. It's a little shocking, even for the kids, and anyone who's had children will understand what I'm talking about.

This has never bugged me before. I am not an overly structured person. In fact, I'm pretty sure I don't fall anywhere within the Overly Structured paradigm.

But somehow I got wrapped up in the busy-kid mentality that pervades in my neck of the woods.

Even in the summer, parents {working or not} tend to keep their children running from one activity to the next. Educational lessons built in wherever possible. Play dates up the friggin' yin-yang.

God forbid my children should have any long stretches of unfettered free time. Or a day or two to themselves - no plans, no friends, no coaches telling them what to do.

So, the first month of summer was pretty busy, at least by our standards. I even scheduled them to attend a week of VBS at my parent's church {which they loved, btw}.

But it was so unlike me to stress about being busy enough. About keeping them busy enough.

Freedom induced stress. Lame. Even I wanted to kick myself.

Reason number two: The Canine

We rescued a 6-month-old puppy in May through a wonderful organization called Animal Aid & Rescue Foundation {if you're looking for a furry buddy, I would highly recommend them}.

I mean, what family with three young children living in a cramped house in the city doesn't need a puppy? I know, I know - what was I thinking? But we went ahead and did it anyway {God bless The Russian for caving in}.

She was sweet from the start - a heart on her sleeve kind of dog. But still a rowdy puppy, and one with her own bag of issues.

The Russian had little time to care for her, as I knew would be the case, and so the responsibility fell on me. And it hit me hard.

What the hell was I going to do with a hyper, rough-on-the-leash puppy all day? How would we get out and do our summery things without crating her for hours on end? How would she behave on our various vacations?

It was a physical and emotional dilemma - and yes, a trivial first world problem. And yes, one I might have foreseen, had I not had puppy blinders on.

Even in the midst of my meltdown, I knew it was ridiculous. I mean, she's a dog for crying out loud.

But somehow it felt as though I'd adopted a fourth child. A fourth child that ate everything, yanked your arm off on walks, and wouldn't mind getting a taste of every cat within eye shot. You get the picture.

I'm a capable woman. I am strong and determined. But for some reason, this dog brought me to my knees. I can't explain it, and I'm  embarrassed by my reaction, but that's the truth.

Conclusion: Chill the Eff Out

So, yeah. Basically, I needed to take a chill pill. Or down a couple shots of tequila. Make that a whole round of shots.

By July, all was well.

We'd found our way back to an unstructured summer. And guess what? My kids don't combust when faced with a week of back yard play and old toys. A fact I'd once known but lost sight of.

And our puppy is awesome! She's got her quirks {and still considers cats fair game....good thing our feline steers clear}, but she suits our family and we suit her.

When next summer draws near, I'll be ready. If I feel the pressure to over-entertain my children or get the nutso urge to adopt another creature, I will take a moment.

I will walk to the liquor cabinet and grab trusty ol' Jose Cuervo. I'll take a long pull and then a deep breath.

Then all will be right with the world. :)