Summers Past

Let me start off by saying that teachers do not “get their summers off.”  Teachers sign a contract to work a certain number of days.  They are paid for that number of days.  The days in the summer are not contracted days, therefore they are not paid for them.  Teachers may not be teaching, but they are not being paid, either.  No one’s tax money is being spent on teachers lying by the pool.  Sorry.  That was a bad way to start.  I got on a bit of a soap box there.  

With my current position as an educational consultant, I no longer have my summers free.  I am contracted to work twelve months of the year.  I am often asked if I miss my summers.  The answer to that question is yes and no.  Yes, I miss spending the summers with my children. No, I do not regret taking this position.  If I were to have my whole summer free now, I would not have any “children” with whom to spend it.  Matthew and Emily are both working now, too.  The summers of swimming at the pool and playing at the park are over for me (until I have grandchildren).  But I do have fond memories of summer fun.

Before Emily was born, I tried to take Matthew on an outdoor outing everyday after his nap in the summertime.  He loved to be outside, even when it was 100 degrees.  He was pretty easy going with most things, but the one outing that we only tried once was feeding the geese at the park.  He was probably a year old at the most when I took him to the park.  I can’t remember what he was wearing, but I do love a good theme, so I’m pretty sure it was something with a duck on it.  No doubt he looked completely adorable.  My mom always said my kids looked “spit shined.”  I believe that’s southern for tidy-as if from in a magazine.  I had a bag of bread for the geese. I had Cheerios and juice for Matthew.  I had my camera.  Cell phones did not take good pictures back then.  I’m not sure they took pictures at all??  I don’t remember.  Anyway, it was a production to get everything all ready for our little walk to the pond.  I had seen the geese many times, of course.  I saw them every time I drove by the park.  

But I never noticed how many there were.  And I never knew that they could sense the crinkle of a Bunny Bread wrapper from sixty yards.  I had barely gotten the stroller off the parking lot when the first few geese started waddling toward us.  I am using “waddling” here because it paints a cute visual image of a goose.  That verb is not nearly strong enough to describe the intensity of the movement.  These geese were covering some ground.  I became slightly unnerved, but I assumed that these geese were the scout geese that let the others know when food had arrived.  They were making a real racket with their honking and hissing.  I kept the wheels of the stroller aiming toward the pond.  As we got closer, more and more geese approached.  As they got closer, I became aware of their size.  These geese were not normal sized birds.  They must have been doused with something radioactive.  I swear they were four feet tall!  They began to form a circle around the stroller.  It was clear that we would never make it to the pond.  They meant to harm us.  Matthew began to cry.  I was close to tears myself.  I was afraid they were going to start pecking him.  Luckily, I am a quick thinker.  

I picked up the entire stroller, with Matthew in it, and began to run back to the car.  The Cheerios that were on the tray started to fly off in all directions.  The flying cereal whipped the gigantic birds up into a frenzy.  They were fighting over them and honking and hissing louder than ever.  Feathers were flying!  Matthew was screaming.  I was praying.  The cereal ran out before we made it back to the car.  When the food stopped flying, the geese became much less interested in us.  They also didn’t much like the screaming.  By the time we got to the car, I was able to get Matthew out and into his car seat with no help from the geese.  We never even made it to the pond!  We decided (I decided) to go for ice cream instead.  To this day, I do not understand how people can go to that park where those killer geese are.  I did go back one time with both kids and Mark.  I ended up on top of a picnic table, holding Emily. Geese will kill you, people.

Emily was never much into doing anything outside.  She preferred crafting and baking.  I cannot even remember all of the things we made over the years.  The crafting had to all come from a kit, though.  I have no crafting ability whatsoever.  I really can’t even read directions on a craft kit.  The directions don’t make sense to me.  They just make me mad.  And sad.  And then I want to take a nap.  The kitchen stuff I was much more help with.  

I have no idea where she came up with some of the ideas of what she wanted to make.  We made lip scrub, lip gloss, and all kinds of cookies and cakes and brownies.  One day she decided that she wanted to make suckers.  Many of you may have successfully made suckers before.  I am happy for you.  Suckers cost about twenty-five cents to purchase.  We spent about fifty dollars on supplies to make the approximately five suckers that came out in good enough shape to eat.  

We bought flavoring, molds, sticks, and two candy thermometers.  We had to have two because we dropped one on the floor as soon as we got home and had to go out and buy another one.  But we were excited, and we got everything ready and started to boil the sugary mixture.  You had to get it to a certain temperature and then stir it constantly while it was boiling.  You had to let it boil for a really long time.  A reallllllyyyyy lloooonnngggg time. And you had to stir it the whole time.  I think it was five hours.  It felt like it was five hours.  The stove was too hot for Emily to be anywhere near it.  So, I stirred it.  Then, you had to pour the liquid sugar fire into the molds.  Guess what?  We had molds for 8 suckers.  But we had enough liquid sugar fire for about 90 suckers.  What was I to do with the rest of the liquid??  I remembered that I had some candy molds.  I quickly pulled those out and poured the liquid sugar fire in them.  That helped, but there was still a lot left.  Emily and I looked around the kitchen to see if there was anything else we could use as a mold.  While we were looking, the liquid sugar fire began to cool.  As it cooled, it started to harden.  By the time I got back to my nice saucepan, the sugar liquid was a solid rock.  It was like a two-pint watermelon Jolly Rancher in my saucepan.  What was I going to do?!  I knew I could heat it up and melt it, but into what could I transfer it?  I found a coffee can and melted the candy down and poured it into the coffee can.  Anything that the hot liquid candy touched became a solid when cooled, so I had to be careful with all my utensils too.  

The candy molds did not work for hot sugar fire.  It burned the plastic and those had to be thrown out.  A couple of the sticks to the suckers that we made popped out and did not stay in our suckers.  We literally ended up with about five watermelon suckers.  We both agreed that we should not attempt another flavor.  Ever again.  We have purchased suckers since that day.  

Although we did have some plans that went astray, most of our summer days together were good.  I spent a few years doing summer school.  That ended when Emily asked me why I wanted to spend my summer with other people’s kids instead of my own.  I had done it to earn extra vacation money.  I had not thought about it from her perspective.  Obviously, that was the last summer I did summer school.  We went to the park (but not the pond), the pool, the waterpark, the library, the movies, and anywhere else that sounded fun.  

Yes, I miss that time with them.  I miss making them breakfast while they watched cartoons.  I miss seeing them run through the sprinkler in the yard.  I miss tucking them into bed at night and reading them books and saying their prayers.  But I know all of those good experiences have shaped them into the people they have become.  They came from a place of safety and security, of warmth and love.  They know their worth.  And they know that I will always be here, rooting for them.