Long summer days begin early-by the time Esther wakes up at 6:30 the sun is already up. But the shadows of the trees and the play set still stretch long across the dewy suburban grass. For a person more used to evening shadows that stretch the other way, the world looks curious, slightly mysterious. It is full of the promise a new day brings of a story not yet written.

Summer is a time of watermelon: cool, crisp and sweet. If I were a gardener, it would mean fresh produce from my own backyard (and all the weeding and watering that go with it). Since I’m not, it means locally grown fruits and veggies at Spicer Brothers Produce. It means bending over strawberry vines—knees in the dirt, hands in the leaves—slowly filling a bowl with small, red, sweet, ripe berries and learning to work hard for our food. It is a time of hot dogs, hamburgers, chips, preferably eaten outside in the company of friends and family.

We fill up our little pools. We don our swimsuits, brave the breeze and the scorching sun, submerse our bodies, and splash until our skin crawls with goose bumps. We run around the yard to get warm. In a sunny corner we lay within reach of every warming ray. Esther discovers she can climb in and out of her tiny pool at will. Everywhere she sits on the patio she leaves a soggy diaper-shaped splotch. At dinner-time we come into the air conditioned house and feel like we are walking into a refrigerator. We drip all the way to the bathroom where we change into summer clothes: shorts, a sundress maybe. They feel warm and soft to our pruny skin.

Summer days are as lingering as our shadows that extend long and thin in the orange sunset. Will this time of bare feet, sunburns, and corn on the cob last forever? Will there always be sprinklers greening the grass and roses blooming in the neighbor’s yard? No, we know that this is only a season. Soon the earth will careen a bit further around the sun and it will be a time of other things because “there is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven.” Whether it’s birth or death, planting or harvest, laughing or weeping, it has all happened before and it will all happen again. Yet somehow the slant of early morning shadows will always seem new. The feel of soft grass to my naked feet, the touch of a warm breeze on my bare arm, my father-in-law’s grilled hamburgers... they sort of make life worth living.

All four of my wisdom teeth were successfully removed this afternoon. Unfortunately I seem to have left my bottom lip at the dentist's office.

Sun!

No, I was not out in the yard over a fire cooking grits and flapjacks. I had milk to use up so I flipped through the (lovely) pages of my (signed) Pioneer Woman Cookbook and decided to try her "French Breakfast Puffs". I don't think I'll ever be buying cake donuts again. These were delicious and by the time I'd licked the beaters and the spatula, nibbled the crumbs as I took them out of the muffin cups, and eaten just one of the finished products, I had a happy, satisfied feeling in my tummy.

I don't know if my muffin cups were significantly smaller than hers or if I didn't measure right, but I ended up with way too much batter. I did double it to make 24 rather than 12, but I think the original recipe could have easily made 18-20. As it was they got that funny mushroom shape as they rose too quickly out of the cups and a couple bits of poorly mixed in butter melted over onto the bottom of the stove (smoky!). Next time I'm going to just slightly increase the butter and flour and scoop all 24 of my muffins cups. This "next time" will be coming soon!

On another note, I saw some blue sky on my way home from Spicer Brothers Produce today. I took a mental picture of it so I can remember what it looks like now that it's gone again.

I was sweeping the floor the other evening when I heard the book reading going on in the other room suddenly get interrupted by giggles and exclamation of amazement. Hurrying over, I found Esther holding an old cell phone—now used as a toy—to her ear. She was babbling into it and waving "hi" with the other hand. To listen to all our applauding and cooing you would have thought she had discovered time travel. The kids thought she was very funny and even though Eli and I have seen two other kids learn to do pretty much the same thing, it was still amazing and (of course) adorable. Sorry about the poor picture quality. My babies never perform for the camera so I had to snap some quickly without messing around with settings or changing lenses.

Esther's Accomplishment #2 is also a Lesson Learned for Mommy. Bananas left on the floor are very appetizing to a crawling baby, even with the skins still on. Obviously I wasn't thinking clearly when I left both the bananas and the baby on the floor, even though they were in different rooms. By the time I came back, Esther was smacking her lips and two of the bananas had their ends completely chewed off. Gross! I did not stop to take a picture. This one was taken after everything had been cleaned up. Yes, I still left bananas on the floor, but I was watching this time. After putting my camera away, I put the bananas in the fridge.