Real Slow

It's the first day of Summer. The longest day of the year. Good thing too. Because there is a lot to do. I tasked my kids to make a list.

"What do you want to do this summer?" 

Blank faced, they drifted, crunching Os in their own time. Rounding back. Easy does it. No thoughts have been strained.

Still unanswered. I began again. (And again, by no means provoked.)

"Perhaps learning a new dive and sleeping outside?" 

The inflection on that last word as hollow as their whole grains.

Admittedly, we've been "under the weather". New England has not graced us with its per-usual, post Memorial Day summer-like-feel and the forecast has been sick with rain.

Plans foiled, but perhaps the lesson is - not to toil? Best to take it as it comes.

Slow chews of sustenance - like wheat and time on the feet. The word "solstice", I read, comes from the Latin words sol sistere, which means "sun standing still."

When Gigi was little, we asked her what vanilla ice cream tastes like. She returned with a smile, hardly awhile, and did not hesitate with, "nothing."

Summertime moments, when the clock melts and the sun is felt, feels about right with "yes, I'll have - nothing" (to do).