Soundtrack of summer

From Unsplash since the squirrels have eaten all of mine so far

The refrain of the summer is heat, rain, flies - rinse and repeat.  It goes from way too hot, to a reprieve due to a massive thunderstorm, to cooler weather which is quickly overshadowed by the sheer number of flies that appear and swarm.  Ponies, dogs, and humans alike are eaten alive by all sorts of flying insects.  We all get sprayed - fly spray, bug repellent, etc etc etc.  Eau de Ultrashield is the scent of the summer (IYKYK).

Ignoring all the complaints though, there is something magical about the summer.  Traffic during my morning commute has certainly eased, with kids out of school.  In North Texas, the light lasts well into the evening, with the sun setting around 8:30 pm and the sunsets are particularly brilliant after a storm.  The mornings are quiet and cooler and the horse barn is dead quiet in the late afternoons.  No more after school crowd to contend with, all of the arenas are mine.

Last week, I picked up the new Dr. Pepper Float ice cream from Blue Bell.  For those of you who don’t live in the south, I’m sorry that you’re unable to experience the gift that is Blue Bell ice cream.  The Dr. Pepper version tastes just as delightful as it sounds and is a perfect accompaniment to the kick off of the hot hot hot season.  That being said, it’s probably the right time to fire up my home ice cream maker and churn my own version of cold summer treats.

We also have tomato plants erupting all over our backyard from remnant seeds that fell last summer.  Have you ever pruned a tomato plant?  Did you even know you could prune a tomato plant?  I didn’t but reasoned that there must be a way of taming those beasts.  They will eat up your entire garden if you let them, so I’ve been giving them a healthy trimming every few days.  Now if only the squirrels will stop stealing my ripe tomatoes off the vine.  In a week, I should be able to pair my tomatoes with our homegrown basil plus cheese and balsamic vinegar.

On a simple wander around the neighborhood in the evenings with Bowie, the signs of summer are in the air.  It’s the smell of hot pavement after a summer storm, freshly cut grass, and one or several of our neighbors firing up the grill in their backyard.  It’s the hiss of sprinklers, the whir of bicycle wheels, and chirruping of squirrels as they get treed by the dog.  Despite the heat, I could listen to the summer song forever.