I love June. I love playing outside after dinner. I love having the windows open in the house and always the sunroof open in my car. I love riding the motorcycle. I love play dates at the park and eating dinner, even if it’s spaghetti, outside on our seen-better-days patio furniture. I love not having to launder socks or wear coats. I love the absence of static cling and the presence of the smell of sunscreen. I love afternoon showers because we’re so dang sweaty and frozen fruit and loud 60s tunes that make us dance in the front yard.
I love getting together for no reason on a Tuesday night and maybe having ice cream…the motivation to spring for a pedicure more often…wearing skirts and dressing the girls in sundresses…seeing flowers everywhere…occasionally substituting cereal or popsicles for a meal… the porch swing…actually seeing our neighbors…smelling the rain and the mowed grass and barbecue from down the street.
I love blockbuster movies and outdoor concerts and fireworks and catching up on old shows and getting together with old friends. I love sticky little faces and even smelly little feet and trips to the zoo and bike rides to the post office. I love the breeze our attic fan makes all through the house and I love the thought that next summer I will be living in a different home, getting to know what makes for the best lighting and the best place to sit on a lazy night after a bout with insomnia and a busy day.
Oh yes, I love summer with a deep abiding passion. June is not summer-y for us in the recreational sense; it is our busiest month of the year, our play-offs, our finals, our double and triple shifts. But when it culminates, down in our dear Branson in just over 4 weeks, we will be celebrating with a sense of summer and a whole lot of other things…like friendship and accomplishment, unity and excitement, and celebration of gifts from God. I will read this again and count them before we start all over tomorrow.