July
Hot summer days. The lake so warm it felt like bath water; we soaked and swam for hours. We watched the Harry Potter flotillas pass by laughing at the Leaky Cauldron and being impressed by the Quiddich players aboard their decked out pontoon boats. Norah learned to swim this summer, fearless in the lake, jumping off the end of the pier and the big blue foam square. She swam out to the floating pier and laughed as she jumped in again and again yelling for us to watch. We ate ice scream at Peytona Bay and waited for the kids to come home from Camp Crosley, first the day campers then the all weekers. Ian and Nick got their feet wet with day camp while Norah and Mallory played all day. We caught up with Julia during the week hearing all about her days in Ecuador. We did a lot of nothing most of the time which is blissful.
It's weird how time at the lake slows down and speeds up simultaneously. The days are long, the sun shining bright at 6am and going strong until well after 9pm and yet the days still seem to fly by in a way that never happens in February. It always seems impossible that it could be dinner time, and bedtime is just an idea, one that we might get around to only after we've got as much out of the day as possible. There's so much fun to soak in- the talks around the deck, the cocktail cruises, the lake baths, the last daylight hour tube ride, the late night card games- that you never want to stop for meals or any kind of schedule. Everything and nothing is happening; children are growing, bodies and souls are re-energizing. An entire afternoon can be frittered away reading a good book or playing Lego's or adjusting the old ski rope to suit 3 year olds to 13 year olds. And yet it all seems so important, so necessary. It's as though we need to store these long hours of freedom for the fall and winter months that are so full of commitments. There are no obligations at the lake except laughter and kindness, picking cherries, chopping up the freshness of summer for a delicious meal or stopping to push a kid on the rope swing. These days of nothing and everything become the marrow we need to survive long after the summer's gone. And July is really when it happens. We've left behind the month of June with all the loose ends of a school year firmly tied. In July we are fully relaxed, we are not thinking about the months to come only about the day at hand; when to eat ice cream, what amazing meal we'll create out of fresh tomatoes and herbs, what boats are speeding by. These days help sustain us through those longer winter months that we know we can't stop from coming, but we don't need to think about now.
August
Birthday weekends, summer golf, food that never tastes better: roasted corn, lake linguine, Bitsy's rice and Judith's assorted pickled veggies. The annex has become the hub for corn hole, euchre games and late night dancing. Long into the muggy nights laughter reaches across the lake as we tell old stories about childhood and new stories about our children growing up on the lake. We sip wine that goes warm quickly and grab our glasses as kids blast by playing kick the can. Daddy Good Shoes has us in stitches with his stories and one liners, "whatever suits your fantasy." August brought surprisingly cooler temperatures and a long weekend filled with preparations for the cardboard boat regatta. We watched in wonder as the Dressing-Read Killer Bees boat defeated the two time champions, the Ace Torpedo to take home the big prize, $200, 2 seafood dinners and two foot tall trophy. The kids on the bay cleaned up winning the three of the top 4 prizes. It was a day we will never forget and will live on in their childhood memories as an unbelievable victory. Later we watched volunteers break the Guinness book record for the Worlds Longest Ice Cream Sundae. We all got spoons and took a big dent out of the over 200 foot long ice cream extravaganza. We rode the newly remodeled Dixie surprised at how much we enjoyed the hour long trek around tiny Lake Webster. August brought a new little being to Tippy in the form of a puppy named Maisey who seems to love the lake as much as her human counterparts. In August we squeezed the last bit out of those precious days before school started; visits to the Fort Wayne Zoo, swimming and soaking up the sun, potluck meals eaten at dusk, last Sunday nights on the lake.
September
Labor Day, festival Friday, early morning departure on Saturday. The biggest monster truck bouncer ever. Papa giving Evan a pie in the face for his birthday, lakeside football games, fishing expeditions, news from our departed away at college. Big front yard shaving cream battles and afternoon s'mores. We've decided the neighbor may never sell his lake house. Bundled up on Sunday as unusually cool weather made it feel more like fall than the end of summer. The smell of dying leaves already fills the air. There were tears as we packed up the fridge and cleaned the rooms, knowing it might be awhile before we all get back again. So we'll remember:
"dancing in September
never was a cloudy day...
say do you remember, dancing in September
golden dreams were shiny days"
