Photos of promise.
Memories of summers past.
Hope for one to come.
One hundred year old oaks sleeping on your house, week long power outages, and flooded basements are not my idea of a good time.
Been there, done that.
Yet I’ve been lucky.
In looking out my own picture window, they’re been more of an inconvenience.
Once those bills were paid off.
But I still was mighty relieved to see my friend relaxed and smiling last night knowing severe storms were expected to stop by.
Especially when I read number “13” on his tag.
Did I tell you I’m superstitious?
The perfect way to start out the long holiday weekend.
A cup of steaming, dark roast in one hand.
A book in the other.
I’ll catch the morning breeze.
Before boats dot the landscape.
Before a late summer sun nudges up temps.
For one last time.
I’ll briefly rest my eyes.
Savoring memories of a summer coming to a close.
Pleasant memories they are.
Here folks call it the great Minnesota get together. I call it great Minnesota gridlock. Sticky strollers, crying kids, lost ladies, and teens who can’t turn and text at the same time. And then there’s frumpy fair fans like me, pouring out of busses boarded back in the burbs.
With knapsacks, shorts, dark socks, and nasty smelling Nikes, we’re like a Parisian’s worst nightmare of American tourists circling the Louvre at dawn.
But no Mona Lisa for us. The art prize here in ‘you betcha’ country goes to the food. And the frenzy’s already begun. With tapping toes to Van Morrison’s “Brown Eye Girl” at the bakery this morning, we’re eyeing the brown frosting on the Minnesota Hot Dish cupcakes as we stand in line. Everyone’s getting pumped. And I don’t mean with iron.
The morning buzz is which suburbanite’s rhubarb jam is stealing the blue ribbon from Duluth this year, and the best techniques for calling in sick so you too can consume 5000 calories in four hours.
The discussion really heats up when one portly gent offers up some of the new foods on a stick at this year’s fair, fresh from the morning paper: Deep Fried Olives, Candied Bacon Cannoli, Cocoa Cheese Bites, and one I’m sure to try, Fried Pickles n’ Chocolate!
Then the speculation begins. Can anything ever be as good as the year when Fried Alligator on a Stick reigned supreme?
I sure hope so. I can smell that glorious grease already.
Just for today,
I want to be a kid.
And shop for school supplies.
Then plead for a crayon box early.
And color my tree trunks with a burnt sienna crayon.
My tree tops with green and yellow ones.
And lick cherry Popsicles under the oak.
Then fish from the dock for my ‘sunnies’.
Next lose myself in the growing tall corn.
But just until my fish dinner.
When I’ll return with sunflowers.
Found down the road.
I’ll give them to my Mother.
Then pedal my Schwinn off into the night.
Till exhaustion finally sets in.
I’ll return to doze up on the porch swing.
And try not to remember.
That I’m late for work.
And daydreaming again.
And forgot to pay the mortgage.