I’m so excited for the weekend to finally get here. This week has been moving rather slow, and I’m already in need of some good, hard napping to truly relax. With only a few more weeks left in the semester, I’m starting to count the days until summer vacation arrives and with it a great deal of my day to day work responsibilities will vanish.
I taught for three hours today in a row, and while I’m always motivated during class by the time I get back to my office, my whole body hurts. Thankfully, the class I teach has pretty minimal grading involved which just makes life so much easier. I have colleagues who walk around with giant folders of still to be graded assignments, and I thank my lucky star that is not my current reality.
Once my students take their final exam and final grades are issued, the campus will be quiet once again and research will pick up in earnest. I wonder all the time what it would be like to do work for an entire day without a single interruption. Summer time is the closest I get to experiencing deep states of work, sans distractions. I’m really looking forward to it.
Now if the weather would cooperate and truly usher spring time temperatures, all would be right in the world. I’m anxiously waiting for the last freeze of the season so that my spring flowers will begin to bloom and my husband and I can transplant all of our vegetables currently growing in seed containers indoors into the backyard garden.
We planted three varieties of tomatoes: roma, beefsteak and heirloom. We also have zucchini, watermelon, cucumber, romaine lettuce, broccoli, and red, green and yellow peppers. Once you’ve tasted a home grown plucked from the vine tomato, it’s really hard to go back to store-bouught ones. We don’t grow our own vegetables just for the sake of improved flavor or nutrition though.
There’s something quite magical about the warm season and getting plants to grow from little seeds is part of it. Work hard during the day and come home at night with plenty of sunshine left and pick a tomato straight from the vine, throw a little salt on and there isn’t much more one can ask for. Grilling in the back yard, or sitting on the porch swing, a gentle breeze caressing warm fingers and bare toes as fireflies dance their merry dance.
It’s going to be a good summer, I can almost taste it.