Summertime and the livin' would be easy. If we only had a heart, a brain, some wood, the noive...

Thought I would make one of my lists over here. Write down intentions publicly and all that. So, summer. Right. We have almost arrived at the first of it. Today is Father's Day.  Hope my husband, who is a really good dad, has a happy one, maybe with a little fun thrown in. Hope my Dad, who is not, also has a nice day. I should call him. And I will. And stumble around awkwardly, verbally, for a few minutes. 

This summer seems strangely not. Summer. First off, it's still mostly rainy and cold EVERY DAY. I despair of the garden, on which we were depending. The soil is not conducive to baby seed growth and development, and the hail (multiple spates) sure didn't help. We keep plugging away; Hope Springs Eternal, cock-eyed optimism, and all that. Our neighbors are going to California for a couple of weeks, and said I can take all the roses I want from their yard, so flowers, at least, will fill vases. Yay! And there's a fresh library book for late at night, eliciting real and utterly spontaneous laughter - the author so horrifyingly, accurately captures and gets down on the page her  14 year old protagonist's life, and all it entails. In Zanesville by Jo Ann Beard. Highly recommended, along with The Language of Flowers, Vanessa Diffenbaugh.

And yet. Sooo...gone are the days of a real, honest-to-God realxing summer vacation. I have had to take a day here and there, but for other work, and obligations. Really, really want to go - somewhere - but that is out of the question. And Colin's working even harder than I am. We're definitely like Alice.

That said, my prospective list might seem to portend something lofty, something to improve the mental state, and capitalize on the positive. Well, it DOES, but probably not in the way you, dear reader, imagine.

What I Want Need for the Yard. To improve this summer (and future summers, one can hope, though in a world where we are actually AMAZingly well off, the whole concept seems terribly selfish). A short list. And for now, insurmountable. Though pretty confident I could make some of these, "if I only had the wood."

1) A hammock on a stand. Nowhere to hang the other kind. Afraid a cheap metal stand won't do, not sturdy enough; we need solid wood. (And yeah, this one, I might be in over my head trying to make...)

2) A bench, preferably a pretty, park-benchish style. 

3) Another picnic table. There are now too many of us for just one.

4) A couple of colorful adirondacks.

5) A swing. (maybe)

(And maybe tomorrow, I'll think about replacing the broken blender pitcher, the entry way floor, and learn how to use the French press...)