Quiet Area: o verão, porque você tem que sair?

Today is the day after Labor Day.
I have the fondest of fondest memories of Labor Day. I grew up in a beautiful house in Connecticut, on almost 2 acres of land/woods with a marvelous back yard, complete with a largish pond to boat, swim, and explore around. My family loves a good party. We are VERY good at organizing parties. I believe this a spiritual gift somehow (although I refrain from mentioning Party-Throwing in the SS lessons about spiritual gifts as one of my spiritual gifts--it's better to keep these things to one's self). Every Labor Day my mom and dad would organize an unofficial turned official Labor Day picnic for all and everyone we knew. Neighbors, friends, church peers, work peeps, extended family--all were invited, and it seemed, everyone always made an appearance.

Included in said Labor Day celebrations were preparing fish packets full of freshly caught blue fish to bake over the numerous BBQ set-ups, BBQ'd corn on the cob, freshly caught lobster, (guys, it was Connecticut--we fancy and we like our freshly caught seafood), fresh lemonade, and so many potato and pasta salads you could drown yourself in all the mayonnaise. Now, all of the set-up and preparation was technically the responsibility of Boy Scout Troop 268 (they caught the fish/lobster, pops was the scout master or something...), but being a) a resident of the picnic location b) a sister of 6 brothers [scouts] c) daughter of a scout master and efficient user of resources d) a bit of a tom-boy, I was deeply involved with preparation of said picnic. I loved/hated Labor Day. It was so much work. But the Brown in me loved it because people LOVED it. Like, highlight of their year loved it. People would come to our party and swim and play volley ball and get beat in a King of the Dock competition and play in the annual balloon catching contest (we're talking sling-shotting water balloons a couple hundred feet into a crowd of people with outstretched hands, shirts, and towels for a chance to catch one to trade in for a candy bar). Every year, someone would think of an awesome contraption to build that would somehow enhance the enjoyability factor of the picnic. One year it was a giant slip-n-slide that involved slathering grease all over our bodies. Another year it was a 30-foot platform that was brought out to the middle of the pond to jump from. Another year it was a zip line (or the year one of my brothers almost DIED) into the pond. GUYS IT WAS SUCH A GOOD TIME. Someday, I vow to give an annual party that people love as much as our Labor Day picnic. I would die happy.

Today is also the day after a baby was born. The sweetest baby was born yesterday, and I got to see it. I drove home yesterday morning with the dorkiest smile on my face. Life is a freaking miracle. It is also a really dynamic (read: hard, rough) experience. There is so much SHIT (sorrynotsorry) going on in the world. Racism, genocide, mindless wars, and corruption is all I read about, and it makes me so so so sad sometimes. Sad that people can't be nicer. Nicer to each other, to themselves, to the Earth. I mean, I'm not perfect. Maybe I'm also sad because I see my own internal conflicts as I become increasingly aware of my short-comings and weaknesses and places were I could do SO MUCH BETTER. But I do try. I try to be nice. I try to send out positive energy. I try to love and treat people with care. Because as K says, we all basically have the same problem: we just need to learn to give each other breaks and to be kind and to love one another.

This day marks the official (hopefully not unofficial) end of summer. This probably makes me the saddest, because last winter was hard. I hope the incoming winter won't be as difficult. Here are the highest of highlights from Summer 2014: