Fading Through the Door Into Summer

And he thought he heard the echo of a pennywhistle band...and the laughter from a distant caravan...and the brightly colored line of circus wagons in the sand...fading through the door into summer.
This is a song from an old Monkees album. I know, I know, but I still have two copies of Pisces, Aquarius, Capricorn and Jones.
Summer is fading slowly as the heat lingers on. The trees are still green, but everything looks dusty and tired. Let's start fall early, shall we?

Summertime

Summertime-and the living is ...well, not quite easy, but more manageable. Two classes to teach and some sporadic office work and possibly time to work at the bead table. Goals for this summer: learn to make earrings, put cords on pendants and list lots of stuff on etsy that's sitting in the studio,co-ordinate tags, business cards,online presence, see Polly, Diana and Hannah. Might even find time to read a book on the front porch. Ahhh, summer.

The summer of Chanticleer

Walking in the early early morning is the only way to exercise in a humid Tennessee summer. The park near our bookshop joins some neglected farmland complete with chickens and tumbledown barns. What a delight it's been on the hottest mornings to huff and puff up the hill and hear the first morning crow of a rooster we've named Chanticleer. At first the sound is faint then louder and bolder; he calls up the sun. It's August now and crape myrtles the color of raspberry ice cream flank the park entrance. Young runners who flew past as we walked the trails in June and July are back on the asphalt track in front of the high school. And Chanticleer? He's been uncharacteristically quiet these last mornings. I'd like to think he's on a well-earned vacation, but we're afraid he's gone on a dumpling cruise in somebody's stewpot.