We have had the coolest summer EVER. . .by that I mean actual temperature. Normally by this time we are suffering through dry, dry, tinder dry conditions–blazing hot days with lots of humidity and big black clouds in the afternoon that tempt us with the possibility of rain but only bring heavier humidity and thunder then vanish leaving everyone cranky and even hotter than before.
This summer, however, it has rained. It has rained and rained and rained. It has rained buckets and wash tubs and galvanized pail fulls. We’ve had humidity. . .and it’s been warm, but yesterday was the first time in a long time when it was down right HOT.
Therefore, it was the perfect day to trek out to the woods, build a fire, and roast marshmallows. Right? Well, that’s what we did. Thad had been asking to make S’mores, and Tony wanted to collect some various leaves from the property where we will build our next house, so we had already planned to go build a fire in the camp site for some end of July fun.
It was sticky hot and the mosquitos were out full bore. The thick foliage provided shade but jealously kept the breeze way up in the canopy of pines. We tromped around in the woods, sweating and swatting–pondering the merits of green wood when roasting a marshmallow, wishing for shovels with which to dig holes, getting scratched by briars.
There’s a quote in Winnie the Pooh where Pooh Bear asks Christopher Robin what he likes doing best, and he says, “What I like doing best is Nothing. It’s when people call out at you just as you’re going to do it, ‘What are you going to do, Christopher Robin?’ And you say, ‘Oh Nothing!’ and then you go and do it.'”
So what we did was Nothing. But the leaves were collected, the S’mores were eaten, and then we drove home sweaty and itchy and sticky but happy where we all had nice baths then went to bed. And that’s what I call a good kind of day.