Summer begins officially today and my perch is ready.
When it’s time to move the old bod, I have my tune picked out from this hit list. Back up a few months and it was all about Ed Sheeran, or so I thought when I gave his Sing a shout out, along with a certain Canadian who knows that arty videos aren’t nearly as fun as gathering your posse on the streets of Brooklyn for a one take shoot. Sheeran’s still on the list but others have moved in. Here’s my favourite of the bunch, done up by these dancers who have much to teach me about shaking your booty.
I’m out of breath already. Back to the porch. Come and join me. There’s room for you too on my slothful porch.
We can have some of this. Or that.
We might even be offered up a cocktail or two from the newly minted adult in our house. Back from a year of university life, my oldest is keen to chop, dice and dish, passions being shared and all. Call me a happy duck. What did she learn?
That’s her story to tell but will it bear any resemblance to these other freshman and their take on first year?
What did I learn? To heed my own advice. Let the family shape shift.
My summer projects threaten to topple me off my cushy tush. Finish a manuscript, read a few thousand books, see some stuff that wakes me from zombie state, hurl myself into the Atlantic again and again. Glue our fragments back together.
I will fight the busy curse.
Will you help? What does your summer look like?