What is a summer day made of? The dog days of summer are here. My wife is back in the classroom as a teacher for the first time since the pandemic emerged. El Duderino, my little linguistic four year old has started VPK at the school at the end of our neighborhood. I spend my mornings at home corralling him and Speedy, getting them to their respective school and daycare on time so my wife can have a sembelance of normalcy in the morning at least part of the time. When im working all of those duties fall to her.
Speedy generally gets dropped off first at a small in home daycare. “GiGi” has been as much a part of the boys life as I have. During particularly busy periods, maybe more so than me. Then it’s El Duderino’s turn. The elementary school sits at the end of our neighborhood. Maybe a half a mile following the sidewalks as they twist around gator filled retention ponds, and wind their way through suburbia. El Duderino rolls ahead of me on an aqua marine three wheel scooter with light up wheels. He is becoming skilled enough that I can’t keep up with him at just a walk anymore. Wearing sandals is no longer an option. I need closed toed shoes and a gait somewhere between a prance and a jog to keep up. Awkward enough to get second looks from the seniors and moms power walking at 8 am. But, I’m sure endearing none the less. Seeing an obviously uncaffeinated and disheveled father chasing his son down the street. Dinosaur backpack and spider man lunchbox in hand, so he can focus on the scooter.
About half way to the school he pauses to tell me this trip is annoying. I’m not sure our personal ideas of annoying line up, but I think I can empathize. The dog days of summer in Orlando mean that even this 8am short scoot to school is already sweltering in the upper 80’s. The air is sticky, and clings to you in an oppressive way. Like you owe it a favor and it is here to collect. It wont take no for an answer.
When I first started college in Melbourne Fl, around the same time of year, in the dog days of summer of 2005, I remember those same feelings. The excitement and anticipation of new adventures and opportunities. The social anxiety of a new places and new people. The growing laundry hamper as I would change my clothes after every single class. The walk from my dorm to any class and back, regardless of the time of day would leave me soaked, sweat stained, and contemplating my educational choices. I think I called my mom at some point and told her that I wasn’t sure I was up to this. I’m no stranger to sweating, but normally it is in athletic wear and a setting more of my choosing.
This morning was quite different. The dog days of summer in Burlington VT remind me of what a summer day is made of. In Fl we have it everyday, it isn’t special, because it is the norm, rather than the exception. I have grown to really like this layover, seeing it in both the depths of winter as well as the picturesque day I have enjoyed today.
The sky over Lake Champlain is that faded gray blue of optimism. Not the story book blue that looks so bold and perfect to be cartoonish. The faded and more realistic duller version. The one that inspires adventure because it is lacking in that crisp perfection. There is still room to grow. The breeze blows gently. Just enough to flitter the leaves along the running path and keep the mid sixties air from feeling stagnant. The lake and the mountains silently battling for your attention in the naturally beautiful background.
After my admittedly optimistic and subsequently failed attempt to get out and run a half marathon this morning despite not running in close to a month, I strolled down the street to my favorite local breakfast place here. I have written about it before and will do so again. Handy’s lunch is the Cheers of local dining establishments. I think I have eaten there three times, every time ordering the Chuck Norris breakfast sandwich and a cup of coffee. The owner came over this time shook my hand, and thanked me for visiting again and for our last conversation when I visited a few months ago. Sometimes you want to go where everybody knows your name. It doesn’t hurt that it is one of the best breakfast sandwiches I’ve ever had and I’ve accrued a serious calorie deficit either.
While sitting at the counter watching him interact with the other local, mostly regular customers. One of the men says he grew up in Buffalo. It turns out he is only a few years older than me. He probably played high school football with my step brother. We talked about growing up there and how the city has changed. We talked about high school glory days over carb laden breakfast delicacies.
What is a summer day made of? Optimism, adventure, nature, camaraderie and celebration, in my case obviously some heavy sweating. All of them important and impactful. All of them fleeting.
Thanks for joining me, stay safe and stay sweaty my friends.
