Another summer has passed in a blur -- and not because of all the activity I crammed into it.
No, I sat this summer out, sidelined by one thing or another, as the boat sat dry on its trailer, the bicycles and kayaks hung dusty from their hooks in the garage.
It began with unexpected surgery soon after 3,000 pounds of stone was delivered for a backyard retaining wall and rose garden border. After, I was banned from strenuous exercise and from lifting anything heavier than a gallon of milk, which, for a while, were one and the same. The stone sat there for six weeks, until my husband finally stacked it himself under a hot sun made blistering from bouncing off the white siding.
Trying to make the best of the enforced vacation, I shuffled around the house and invented errands to run and wished it would warm up enough to bob around in our little lake. The closest I came was lying fully clothed in 8 inches of water off our narrow strip of beach to teach my Pakistani exchange daughter, also fully clothed -- and scarved -- the dead man's float. When her lips turned blue, I sent her inside for a hot shower and made her promise not to tell her parents.
Just when it was safe to return to work and more vigorous activity, my mother had a health problem of her own. We canceled our annual mother-daughter trip to Mackinac Island and I traded cycling around the island's horsey perimeter for horsey chores on her farm.
Eventually the day came when she didn't need any more help. But just then a certain film festival came along, a marathon event for those of us who cover it while also trying to squeeze in as many movies as we can.
After that it was the Olympics, which held me hostage inside for three full weekends. Weeknights, I stayed up until midnight, or until the familiar brass fanfare signaled the end of TV coverage, my pink-rimmed eyes like a rabbit's a tell-tale sign the next day.
It was worth it, though, to watch Jason Lezak charge home in that heart-stopping final leg of the 4x100m freestyle relay. And to see the U.S. men's volleyball team win the gold medal and then stand on the podium for the National Anthem. Not only did they know all the words; they sang them. Audibly.
Then there was gymnast Shawn Johnson, who seemed as happy to get the silver medal as she was the gold. If you happened to miss it, you could have seen her likeness made into a life-sized butter sculpture at the Iowa State Fair in her hometown.
Now, it seems, I won't even get a second chance at summer. Our annual February vacation to Florida has been indefinitely suspended since my sister, our host, has moved to Virginia.
Maybe next summer I'll reserve a room at a local hotel and make like a tourist.
Reach staff writer Marta Hepler Drahos at mdrahos@record-eagle.com.
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