Today may be the first official day of summer, but truth be told it feels like it’s been summer here for awhile. The past few days have been hanging heavy in the 90s. I’m pretty sure we didn’t have any 90+ degree days last summer. It’s been tolerable in the shade thanks to the breeze. I was ever grateful for both yesterday. I sat in the grass under a tree and watched T. Bone practice first on the driving range and then on the putting green. I was cheerleader and water girl. I never opened the book I brought along. He was enough entertainment as he prepped for his tournament today. T. Bone has always been such a natural at every sport he’s taken up. Flashback. I can see him clear as day with his first set of clubs. He's sporting a buzz cut, a blue shirt just like the big guys and khaki shorts. It's the summer before his fourth birthday. He's in the side yard with Grandpa, Daddy and Uncle B. learning the basics. They are all puffed up and using words like natural to describe his way with a club. I can hear my son in his raspy, lispy voice trying to talk them into taking him to a real course to play real golf. These days golf is challenging him in ways he’s not accustomed to and I am impressed with how he is handling said contest. He was near the bottom of the leader board last week…not last, but close, yet certainly not discouraged. I really wasn’t sure how he’d handle his severe handicap, but he’s proven that he is up for the fight…not about to hang his head or back down. On the way to the course this morning, his friend A. said, “If you were more consistent you’d be really awesome.” T. Bone acknowledged this astute advise coming from A. who is a more seasoned, steady golfer, and also the reason he is playing in these tournaments in the first place. Both boys increased their scores by 4 strokes today. The course was longer and more difficult, not to mention it was hovering around 95 unforgiving degrees. T. Bone was jazzed despite placing even further from par. You see he had a formidable score going into the 6th hole. That nasty hole cost him 12 strokes and 2 balls lost to water. So he’s so close…so close. Golf has met its match in T. Bone. He will stop at nothing now to improve. What I love is that this is a personal competition. He’s acquiesced that A. is better than he is. He’s OK with that and happy for A. The opponent he wants to beat is himself. The next tournament is slated for August, but T. Bone has plans to play many rounds before then with A., Uncle B. Bone, Grandpa and Dad. When he hits the course next time, he will have worked hard on his game, both mental and physical.
Bit has been swinging clubs around the yard too. OK swinging T. Bone’s first set of clubs which are too wee even for her now. Makes me think maybe we should get her out on the links as well. I think she could be pretty good and she seems to like it thus far.
So it’s only the first day of summer, and already things are going swimmingly…literally. Well, aside from the fact that T. Bone is healing from his first, and hopefully last, sunburn of the season after a day at the pool Monday. He has now learned that he cannot put sunscreen on his own back, and Miss Bit shared with him one word of wisdom…reapply. He has since prompted me to spend a day’s pay on balms that promise protection. Poor guy is white as a ghost. Was white as a ghost and now red as a lobster that is. He’s always hiding under a jersey on the field so his skin doesn't see much sun. Miss Bit is the one who gets brown as a berry. And for the record, she’d live at the pool if only they served chicken tenders instead of hot dogs. We’ve decided to get a season pass for the fish in the family.
Tomorrow is the last regular season game of the season. The Mets have already cinched (no, I don't mean clenched) first place. The team just came together right away and never lost their rhythm or momentum. It’s exciting for them...for us...one and all. We still have the play offs and the post season tournament team to look forward to despite the fact that all good things must come to an end. As much as I feel that our schedules are slave to baseball this time of year, I know I'm going to miss it when it's over. I think Coach Hubby will faint after reading that confession. But it's true.
While the boys had their last practice tonight, I agreed to take Miss Bit to the park when she asked ever so sweetly. Once again I took my book...a new book since the day before...and once again I didn't bother to open it. Instead I watched my girl climb and swing with a new friend. I simply sat on the bench daydreaming and taking in the scenery. The late evening sun still danced along the tree tops making the leaves look like they were dusted in gold as they shimmered in the intoxicating breeze. Slowly shadows encroached on the playground calling my attention to the subtle shift from day to not day. I was awakened to and awed by the passing of the day, the slow, yet discernible setting of the sun, and the never ending ticking of time. I yearned for a freeze frame function urgently wanting to suspend the moment. I thought what a sublime summer day it is...it was. Today is the first day of summer. Tomorrow is the longest day of the year. Never long enough. So soon it becomes was.
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