Summer Welcomes the Cheneverts

Summer becomes official only after Miren and Lise have placed their favorite flip flops featuring bright colored toes over the threshold at Hidden Oaks and school pushed that moment further into June then ever before.  Last Friday, however, did finally mark the end of school and our house subsequently filled with a school year's worth of accumulation: prized papers, weathered art supplies and dingy gym clothes. Miren shed a few tears, reluctant to let go of a fantastic year and Lise spent a few hours in a manic phase of bad TV but their attention quickly turned to the necessary preparations to pack for our trip to Louisiana.

A blanket of lush greens, still bright and lively, slowly relinquished their hold as the van climbed up and out of the lap of our mountains and in and out of batches of fog, deeper and deeper into hot temperatures, humidity and the flat lands that lead to the Gulf of Mexico.  We made the trip under an expanse of bright blue sky with enough cumulus clouds to distract the three year old as he searched for images of dragons and giant dogs but posing no threat of rain in any of the states that we traversed.  Adding a cousin to our passenger list in Atlanta helped to pass the time along the longest stretch of our route that offered little to entertain beyond pine trees and the undulating grasses of the interstate median.

Welcomed by the differentiated insect calls that pierce the air thick with moisture and heat in waves, we stepped out of the van to an intense dampness that gathered on the backs of our necks and sprung in droplets on our upper lips. The girls, greeted by open-armed grandparents stepped into the house where the thermostat is set to erase the most recent memories of staggering heat and sighed loud enough for me to hear as I entered the house behind them.  Summer had begun.  Rem spun in and out of arms and rooms, deliriously happy to be released from the car seat and with blind faith jumped onto his sisters' bandwagon that designates this place as Utopia.

I, too, settled into a state of bliss, a more quiet, relaxed bliss void of urgency and chores and any mom or work related duties as Mom and Dad jumped in immediately and Rem tested them with non-stop requests with no boundaries.

We spent our first day complaining of the heat, with unfounded surprise at the effects of the humidity percentages that match the temperatures.  The kids additionally tried to relive their favorite recollections of summers past in this first "real" day of the season. I took to my childhood bedroom with a stack of books that my parents have accumulated since Christmas and savored a few moments of my favorite recollections of summer days marked by chapters read.

A quick afternoon with nearby cousins and a couple of beignets eaten between retrieving my sister and a blinding sheet of rain that cut short our day in the city punctuated our initial fervor.  Settled now into our holiday routine, the next couple of weeks unfold before us with childlike expectations (appropriate for all of the children involved but the almost forty-year old?) I hope Mom and Dad have the stamina to fulfill the summer fantasies that consist mostly of laughter, time together and good food.