The First Day of Summer

Okay, it’s not really the first day of summer, but school got out yesterday, and the kids in my neighborhood are running around in their new-found freedom. I walked the big dog and saw the parking lot to the pool, at the top of the green belt, filled with cars. It was only 1:00 p.m.

Summer means the shorts I have on today will need some back-ups. I opened my summer tubs from the garage (small closet) and pulled out shorts from the past ten years, different sizes, different styles, some styles that will never come back. The khakis are in good shape because I didn’t wear them. The white ones are still white (because I hardly ever wear them), but the denim ones are faded and beat-up.  I’ve had to throw out some pairs of Jags because they actually disintegrated from use.

The shirts. There are so many. I pulled out the ones with little holes in the front (compliments of Pepper) and packed away the cutesy ones with puffed sleeves. That look doesn’t work on a woman who is 5 feet, 9 inches tall with a post-menopausal bustline. Ten years ago it was a stretch. For today, forget about it.

Some of my all time favorite shirts are as old as my youngest child. I still get compliments on them and can’t bear to part with them. Of course I could never find the style today. One Eddie Bauer cotton button down seersucker blue sleeveless shirt is my go-to on 100 degree days.

Summer means no more ball-throwing sessions with the dogs in the greenbelt. You never know when a kid will show up walking a big dog. The big dog always gets away while the kid stands there, helpless. Then the big dog is running after the ball, and my Pepper gets possessive and not very nice. I can’t risk it with little kids.

Two girls across the street are done with high school. I remember those days. My youngest got a ticket on her way to a high-school graduation party. She did a California stop through the intersection and got a $300.00 ticket from a police officer.  Plus, she failed to tell me, so by the time I got the letter in the mail, she was off to college with no time to do traffic school. That was an expensive proposition, since my auto insurance went up.

The court I live on is growing up. I’ve been here for eight years.  When I moved in there were two little girls in one house and one toddler girl in another, and two more around the corner. Now there are two graduating seniors, two soon-to-be juniors, two middle-schoolers (or early high school?), and the once-toddler girl has two younger sisters.

I’ve found my shorts, my sleeveless tops, and the dresses I used to wear every Thursday when I danced on concrete at the posh outdoor venue with live music. That place has been taken over by the millennials. I still love the bands but not the concrete. Plus the cover charge is $20.00. Now I am in the decade of carrying my lawn chair to free events, so most of those dresses went back into the tub.

I am going to have a party when my last kitchen cabinet gets hung next week.  I will invite my friends (plus all the neighbors and see who is nosy enough to show up). I hope no one moves away on this court. It’s been a tight little community with everyone looking out for everyone’s houses when people are out of town.

Now that it’s summer, anything and everything goes.

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