September Song

Yeah, I'm early. By three days. Indulge me, please. I've had, as I've been telling people, the Summer From Hell.  You don't need the details; just trust me.

It's been in the 88-93 range for most of the past few weeks, with no relief in sight. And humid, too, of course. Everyone is disgusted with everything. Even Lizzy has a kind of hangdog look about her. When the kids were little and tired of summer though they would never admit it, I'd tell them to get out the Monopoly game. And sometimes they would.

My son-in-law is a teacher. A really good teacher. This summer's been good for him; he has had a chance to think through some issues from the previous school year and says he's now in a better place to challenge some of the problems.

That got me to thinking, and I told him, that since he went directly from being educated to educating, he's one of the people who has never experienced not having a summer in which to reboot. September means "fresh start." Look it up if you don't believe me. 

I have long thought that New Year's Eve is actually the first Sunday in September and Labor Day itself is the real start of the new year. Our Jewish brothers and sisters have the right idea, though they are off by a few days. Not a problem.

I remember the first September that I didn't go Back To School on the first Tuesday. I'd not been a good student in high school and started working full time just about a week after graduation. I was standing at the bus stop, waiting for the No. 6 to take me to the train station so I could get to work on time, and I saw the yellow school buses pulling into the high school just across the field. And I had this just awful feeling, like there were no more New Beginnings for me. Ever.

The dogwood leaves are getting dry and crinkly. A school bus or two have driven by, practicing and timing the route. If our garden grew pumpkins, we'd be exclaiming over them. I've started thinking about sweaters (remember sweaters?) and will prolly go out and buy a new spiral notebook for old times' sake. I'm remembering spaghetti and meatballs, which I don't cook during the summer. And, God forgive me, I've even thought that this year a pumpkin spice latte might be in order.

I can sense autumn's approach and I welcome it. The only question is: Can summer be over on Labor Day when we stow the white shoes? Or do we have to wait until September 22?