The Best of Auntie Mae’s Various Ramblings on Life in a Small Town Series

Seems like just yesterday everybody in my hometown was complaining about how blazing hot the summer was getting to be and how they would give their big right toe for a cool breeze to come along or a little girl to stand in front of them and wave a paper fan in their face. They couldn’t wait for those silvery cool breezes of fall to come along.  

Just shows how fickle folks can be.

Now that school will soon be starting up, all I’ve heard of late is how short the summer was and folks wondering about where the blissful days of summer got to. Of course not everybody measures their lives by the school calendar, but those who do have been complaining up a storm in my little town.

Take LuAnn, for instance. She has three children ranging from 5 to 12 and works at the elementary school so she can be “off” in the summers. 

“I can’t figure out what I did with myself, Auntie Mae,” LuAnn whined to me. “At the beginning of the summer I had almost three whole freedom-filled, relaxing months looking me in the face. Now look at me. It’s almost over and I did practically nothing, yet I’m as crazy as ever! What’s wrong with me?”

Here’s the problem. Most people think if they’re not doing something to make money, they’re relaxing. Wrong. They don’t see how much they’re running their fannies off when they’re supposed to be taking it easy. My suggestion to LuAnn was that she make a list of what she really did this summer. Sort of like her own assignment on “What I Did This Summer.”

Here’s what she came up with:

1. Finished up my school paperwork.

2. Took 1 five-day trip with the family to visit the grandparents.

3. Took 1 trip to the water park. Got severely sunburned.

4. Crocheted 5 red, white, and blue tissue-box covers for the church 4th of July booth.

5. Picked 3 gallons of blueberries.

6. Pulled 174 weeds out of the garden. Left the remaining 5,432.

7. Canned 48 quarts of various veggies and jams.

8. Made 178-plus peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. (Lost count on that one.)

9. Packed up the swimming gear 26 times.

10. Drove 420 total miles to dance camp, nature camp, art camp, and swimming lessons.

11. Washed 63 loads of laundry, including 6 ink pens, 4 rocks, 2 guitar picks, and 1 pocket watch. 

12. Hosted 23 houseguests (not at the same time).

13. Had 48 conversations with my two brothers regarding the 50th wedding anniversary party we’re throwing for my parents.

14. Attempted to get my husband to do 6 home-improvement projects (little success).

15. Hosted 1 Little Mermaid-themed slumber party for six 7-year-old girls.

16. Instigated 78 boredom buster projects ranging from building a fairy house out of sticks to hand-weaving a 20-foot rope using multi-colored nylon craft loops.

17. Picked up 63 multi-colored nylon craft loops off the floor.

18. Removed 7 ticks from various people and body parts.

19. Acted as financial backer for 4 lemonade stands.

20. Started back on school paperwork.

“Oh,” she said when she’d written it down. “I guess I did do a lot.”

I told her that list made me tired just looking at it. Like a lot of people, LuAnn thinks she hasn’t done anything if she hasn’t produced something or made some money along the way.

“But really now,” I told her. “Don’t you think in the long run, most of the good stuff of life isn’t about making things or money? Just look out there in the meadow,” I said, pointing out my window.

It was a beautiful, clear, sunny afternoon, and there was LuAnn’s daughter, lying smack dab in the middle of the open field beside my house, staring up in the sky. We watched her lying there for ages, doing what seemed to be absolutely nothing. Then LuAnn laughed, put down her list, and went out there to lie in the grass with her.

Let’s hope she finally figured out the gift of summer – the glorious art of doing nothing.