Summer is slipping by me. Already the fireworks have burst in the sky, while I watched them in TV. Where did the awe go? What happened to all those “Ahhhhs” and “Ohhhhs”?
Summer is measured in so many ways. I guess it comes down to that basic premise.
Summer is measured:
* in the amount of fireflies caught and held in a quart jar.
* in the first good ear of sweet corn covered with butter.
* in the wrinkled fingers of my grandchildren after swimming all day.
* in the number of times people comment on how hot it is today.
* by the splashing in the pool.
* by the number of the SPF in the sunblock lotion.
* by how high I want the A/C set.
* by the lack of football games on TV.
* by the sales of summer clothes at JCPenney.
Can you add to the list? I wonder how many measurements our blogging community can add?
Spring is officially here, and everyone is talking about it, as if it were a personal triumph. There are indicators everywhere. They are classical ones: daffodils, budding trees, a mild wind scented with pollen. People have more lilt in their step, as if they know that the winter coats are close to being retired. I know that spring is almost truly here, or coming, and it is my own peculiar and subtle way.
I do not support this product. I just like the photo.
Subtle? Perhaps I would write “stubble”, for that is my indicator. When I sense that spring is coming, I actually want to shave my legs.
Oh, there is a big difference between having to or needing to and wanting to shave my legs. All through the long winter, I wear jeans, heavy socks, and sweaters all the time. Flannel pajamas are the lingerie of my life. Moisturizer is a popular product on the bedside table. No one sees my legs, so why should I shave them? I am not 21 any more, as my mother is known to tell me frequently when I complain about my weight or arthritis. No one, including my husband, is interested in my legs.
But with Spring, things change. The capri pants and long shorts are looking more and more like they will be dug out of the drawers in the bureau. Therefore, the legs must be shaved, and I will do this willingly.
