Malar Monday

malar ~ of, like or pertaining to the cheek

It’s hard to believe summer is almost over, isn’t? It seems like it just barely started and now it’s all but gone.

Now we’re headed into that narrow window of time where it’s still bright and sunny and green, but it’s cool enough for long pants and maybe a sweater. The time of year that never lasts long enough and makes me wish we had a fireplace.

It’s Sunday as I’m typing this, and I’m sitting out on the deck in leggings and a tee-shirt. And I’m actually feeling a little chilly, which is a nice break from hot and sweaty. I think the temperature is supposed to climb again this week, but not as high as the extreme temperatures we were experiencing. Kind of makes you wonder what’s in store for us this winter – mild or extreme?

We had a lot of rain last week, but that didn’t stop the youth bowlers (and their parents) from collecting in our back yard for the end of season bowling banquet. Bowling season came to a rather abrupt end with the Covid lock down so the kids never got their banquet or awards. They (those who run the kids bowling) had planned on having it at the park down at the waterfront, but someone made the mistake of asking the parks department first. Apparently, if they’d just gone ahead and done it there wouldn’t have been a problem. But because they asked first, there was all kinds of paperwork to fill out, plus insurance to buy, etc., etc.

Since the hubby has always been involved in the kids bowling, and we have that big, beautiful back yard, he volunteered (or maybe he was volun-told) to have it here. They took as many precautions as possible – cans of pop instead of cups, individual bags of chips instead of bowls, and the pizza was served by one person wearing gloves. All very socially acceptable.

The weather also didn’t keep my poetry group from meeting in the covered picnic area down by the beach Thursday night. There was a nice breeze coming off the lake to keep things cool, and one of the poets had the foresight to bring a battery operated lantern. Another sign summer’s over – the sun is starting to set earlier.

We’ll probably get to meet there again next month, but I think October will be problematic. I like poetry as much as the next guy, but somehow I don’t see myself wrapped in a blanket, huddled around a lantern for the sake of poetry.

I wonder how long it’ll be before we make the switch from complaining about the heat to complaining about the cold?