Yesterday was an active school day but not only. Because I had Don driving me to the city, we’ve spent a cool time together with our daughters (their saying) and then, of course, he took me shopping. What a wonderful Friday!
Early in the evening, back home, we manage to make a deal with our teen son (which presumably will bring more order to his life and more sanity to the conversation) and then his twin sister wants the evening family movie. An exclusive time with her parents that she loves to plan and to spend. She picks the film — always. Yesterday she picked ’10 Things I Hate about You’ with Heath Ledger and Julia Stiles, an adaptation from ‘The Taming of the Shrew.’ And because we –parents– are forbidden to speak during the movie, Don sends me a note, written on the back of a shopping bill: ‘this is a spoken porn movie.’
I smile at him, trying to keep a rather serious face, to no avail. It’s a comedy, a high school romantic comedy, the genre I love watching most of the time!
Mild winds, brought in by timid morning rains, are chilling the air. Today we’re harvesting the apple tree — which he enjoys doing while I must hold the ladder for him. I’ve already harvested the quince tree, by myself, and circling the chestnut tree already. The grapes are few up on the vine, a little tabouret will come in handy, or footy (not what you think).
Tonight the Sun will cross the Equator, this summer will be history. Gone from the living present into memories. À propos memories, I’ve got to write a literary essay about a guy who quit society, climbed a mountain, became a monk, lives in the upper spheres even if still trapped by gravity. Studying long forsaken bloody summers, correlating and associating true stories, asking Don to check my data, I realize (again) one single thing: never forget your past, remember summers, so you may discover things more amazing than you’d expect.
Seasons come and go. What matters is to keep your mind in an eternal summer. Or end of summer, if you don’t mind the chill of a casual breeze.