When I was a kid, I remember how long the summers seemed to be. Trips to the family farm in Lexington Indiana were special to us; my grandpa Perk was born there in a little cabin in the woods that fell down long ago. We stayed in my Aunt’s house, where my grandpa also stayed when he was working on the farm.The two story house was white with a front porch and of course an old hound dog named Duke, sleeping by the front door. My sister and I slept on a feather bed that enveloped us; I can’t imagine what sleeping on that bed would do to my back today. We slept in pitch black (no street lamps) and listened to a symphony of crickets and bull frogs outside. My grandpa would get up at dawn and so would my sister, they would check the cows, then go fishing in the pond by the house. I always slept late, but when I finally got up I would go out and look at my aunt Lee’s horses. By the lake, we swam, played in the fishing boats, and walked around the property. I helped my dad clean the fish that we spent the day catching and my mom and grandma would fry them in a skillet on the fire.
I’ve been so busy working on projects for my store, that I haven’t had time for summer. I’m taking time out right now to reflect on what summer should be.