The First Day of School!!!!
In my old age and because I am neither a teacher nor have school age children, I have discovered that I hate summer.
Growing up, I was always disappointed that my summer vacation did not more resemble an orange soda commercial. Those glorious commercials depicting a carefree life on the beach were the touchstone by which I compared all my adolescent summer experiences. Each time those commercials crossed my television screen, I would stare in awe and picture the life I would surely experience the next summer trip. I would lose those pesky 5 pounds, my hair would be just the right length for the pony tails and I would find the most perfect royal blue ruffled bikini. I loved those ruffles. My attitude would be just as bouncy and flirtatious as the cute but undoubtedly intelligent girls who so blissfully played beach volleyball with the tanned, muscular boys. With every passing year, I grew more confident that this would be the year. My day dreams were filled with visions of the perfect guy who would see me from across the volleyball net and immediately know he had seen the woman he would marry. Wonderful, long, romantic letters would follow and I would keep every one of those precious letters tied with the royal blue ribbon I’d wore in my hair the day we found each other (to match the royal blue ruffled bikini of course) in a beautiful fabric covered box underneath her bed. Years later, I envisioned seeing grandkids discovering those letters and treasuring them just as I had. They would be able to read of their grandparent’s romance as if it were happening all over again 75 years later.
Well, absolutely none of that happened. In fact, I am not bouncy or flirtatious and certainly not tan. I no longer have dreams of the perfect summer or the perfect blue ruffled bikini. Instead summer is just plain hot.
H. O. T. Hot.
The flip side of my ridiculous summer fantasies was my dream of the perfect school year. And for the most part, those dreams remain in tact. The return of the school year means the return of schedules, football, clean, crisp notebooks and the possibility for success. There’s a rhythm to Fall that I love. A steady march towards Halloween, Thanksgiving and Christmas. The days get shorter, the temperature pleasant and well, there’s cashmere.
So today as students and teachers alike drudge back into the classrooms, I hope there are some of both who like me are excited about the new year and all the possibilities. I can’t wait to see what this Fall will hold!!!
In my old age and because I am neither a teacher nor have school age children, I have discovered that I hate summer.
Growing up, I was always disappointed that my summer vacation did not more resemble an orange soda commercial. Those glorious commercials depicting a carefree life on the beach were the touchstone by which I compared all my adolescent summer experiences. Each time those commercials crossed my television screen, I would stare in awe and picture the life I would surely experience the next summer trip. I would lose those pesky 5 pounds, my hair would be just the right length for the pony tails and I would find the most perfect royal blue ruffled bikini. I loved those ruffles. My attitude would be just as bouncy and flirtatious as the cute but undoubtedly intelligent girls who so blissfully played beach volleyball with the tanned, muscular boys. With every passing year, I grew more confident that this would be the year. My day dreams were filled with visions of the perfect guy who would see me from across the volleyball net and immediately know he had seen the woman he would marry. Wonderful, long, romantic letters would follow and I would keep every one of those precious letters tied with the royal blue ribbon I’d wore in my hair the day we found each other (to match the royal blue ruffled bikini of course) in a beautiful fabric covered box underneath her bed. Years later, I envisioned seeing grandkids discovering those letters and treasuring them just as I had. They would be able to read of their grandparent’s romance as if it were happening all over again 75 years later.
Well, absolutely none of that happened. In fact, I am not bouncy or flirtatious and certainly not tan. I no longer have dreams of the perfect summer or the perfect blue ruffled bikini. Instead summer is just plain hot.
H. O. T. Hot.
The flip side of my ridiculous summer fantasies was my dream of the perfect school year. And for the most part, those dreams remain in tact. The return of the school year means the return of schedules, football, clean, crisp notebooks and the possibility for success. There’s a rhythm to Fall that I love. A steady march towards Halloween, Thanksgiving and Christmas. The days get shorter, the temperature pleasant and well, there’s cashmere.
So today as students and teachers alike drudge back into the classrooms, I hope there are some of both who like me are excited about the new year and all the possibilities. I can’t wait to see what this Fall will hold!!!
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