Dog Days

As the air turns chill tonight, I’m both ready and reticent to say goodbye to hot, melty days.  The sun stretched the days so long this summer, they run entirely together when I try to recall which was which.  It seems like the seasons that pass behind this little family have started rolling under and over each other in waves, and any effort on my part to distinguish their sequence is in vain.  To keep our memories from lapping and receding from my consciousness, I’m posting tidbits I find scrawled in the margins of my many notebooks:


Sam spent her summer entranced with sidewalk chalk- grinding it to powder form, and rubbing out rainbows to grace our back porch.  As one long, particularly sticky day drew to a close, she declared, “I smell like someone’s dog. Can I please take a bath?” To which I responded by grabbing the shampoo from the upstairs bathroom, and passing it out the backdoor for use under the hose.  



At his old age of 31, Matt fell ill in June, and perscribed his first dose of penicillin. It didn’t go over so well. Itchy, itchy scratchy, scratchy, he got hives on his hiney…



Levi arranged frequent battles between himself and his banana slices at breakfast: Ah! Ah! Don’t eat me! Chomp, chomp! (The bananas always lost.) All summer, he considered colors relative (one minute blue was orange, and the next it was green), and he lived to hijack anything Sam was working on:




On summer crept; with languid pace, we passed rhythmic hours outside- welcoming the intoxicating heat of the Texas sun.  We danced through sprinklers, and rewarded ourselves with popsicles.


Eliza finally walked in early July, and I was mesmerized at her toddles with the garden hose. I assure you little in this world is more entirely inspiring than watching a 1 yr old discover the magical power that is water:

Family Home Evenings brought homemade flags, and smoothies; lots of smoothies:






One final scrawl I find in my “Sunday Notes” spiral:  “Feeling rested this Monday morning; have concluded that Sunday should be my day of rest, and a day of service opportunities for Matt and the kids- mostly where dinner and dishes were concerned.”  

Goodbye lazy afternoons spent letting the heat wash over us. Goodbye outdoor bathing, and banana wars. Goodbye my toddler with the hose. Will you all really never be this small again? I’m now more certain than ever that this languid pace, that melting away… all happened rather too fast.


  1. Jamie you have a remarkable gift I hope one day will be shared with many others not just those reading your blogs. Please continue writing as often as you can. You have at least one fan smiling as she reads each post!


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