There is something about the languid, melting summer heat that seems to evaporate all my desire to accomplish anything. The energy that drives me all year long to clean, make, run, DO is distilled in the laboratory of southern humidity, until I'm left with a tiny concentrate of pure laziness. Where normally I would be frantic to "get things done," I find myself lolling on the couch like a slug, content to watch reruns with my kids and listen to the summer thunder. I wander around the yard beaming at my flowers. I pass by my studio with a "meh" and a shrug. I contemplate the unfinished household projects and tell myself with a wise nod that it can wait awhile longer. I convince myself that putting off the start of a new school year for one more week won't kill anyone.
Everyone gets into the spirit of summer laziness around here.
Which is not to say we haven't had anything to do. We had a solid week of Vacation Bible School, which involved decorating, waking up on time, and a long drive. I sang at a funeral. My oldest had another whole week of Lego robotics camp and my middlest has started taking gymnastics.
But when I'm at home, I'm stuck in that navel-gazing lethargy that smacks me upside the head every summer in Florida.
I did manage to build this tuteur trellis for my coral honeysuckle. I couldn't find a plan online so I totally winged it. I have to say I was pretty proud of myself--especially considering my brain was too heat-muddled to do any real calculating so all the mitered edges of the crossbars were guessed at. Worked out perfectly! The best part is that I saw my very first hummingbird flitting around it the other day. My mom has armies of hummers buzzing around her house in California and I have always wanted to see some here. I doubt I'll ever see as many as she gets but I'll take what I can get.
On the top of my list for favorite summer things, right up there with violent thunderstorms, are my mexican sunflowers. They were the only seeds that germinated from a cheap pack of wildflower seeds I bought years ago, and they come back every year and bloom right up until November or so. The bees and butterflies love them and I love to watch them flit around the cheery orange flowers in the bright sun.
I have that feeling that soon enough we'll be right back into the busy swing of things, but for now I plan on milking the stillness for all its worth.