When I first got to Massachusetts ten years ago (how did that happen?), I was so enamored with spring and fall because all my life they had been novel, abstract concepts. Growing up in Hawaii, I loved grey, cool, rainy days. I loved any opportunity to wear a sweater (usually because of air conditioning). I loved reading books where characters took long walks with autumn leaves underfoot and ate hot things out of checkered thermoses.
Fall is still a special time—we got married in the fall, we go to Vermont in the fall, and now I even host a small blogger event in the fall—but over the years, I’ve grown to appreciate summer more and more. I used to be confused about why James was reticent about welcoming fall. He’d say, “It’s because winter is right behind it.” And, for some reason, at the time, winter didn’t bother me that much. But now, after the crazy winters we’ve had, I understand.
When I was little, my mom read us the Little House on the Prarie books, in which Laura Ingalls Wilder talks about their long, hard winters. She would probably scoff at my idea of a “hard” winter, which includes heat at the flick of a switch, four wheel drive, and my idea of “hard decisions” like whether to make pot roast or chicken noodle soup (with ingredients simply plucked from shelves and refrigerators). But winters are still very long. So long, in fact, that I’ve begun to worship summer like a true New Englander!
If we learned anything from the French while we were in Paris, it was how to take the time to enjoy simple pleasures. Summer in New England is abundant with these. It’s because of winter that even the mere act of opening the windows seems luxurious.
One of the simple things that I indulge in is podcasts, and my favorite is Happier with Gretchen Rubin (The Happiness Project) and her sister Elizabeth Kraft. I loved their recent “Try This At Home” tip, which suggested that listeners take advantage of the “amenities” of their homes. So often, people buy homes because of their great screened in porches, swimming pools, or man caves, but in the busyness of everyday life, they forget to use them. For us, it’s our balcony.
We’ve long thought of our balcony as a bit of a joke because it’s so narrow. To fit on it, normal-sized people have to sit sideways. Kona takes advantage of our balcony all year long–in the wintertime, when she gets hot, she paws at the door so that she can go out and tromp around in the snow (her favorite!). But the humans of this household almost never go out there. I’m a lounger, so buying a bistro set never really appealed to me. But then it came to me: a hammock!
Our contractor/handyman will come and put in the hooks for us this week (our building is made up of metal and wood studs, so it seemed safer not to DIY this time). In the meantime, Kona and I have been hanging out on the balcony, armed with pillows, library books, and blankets. In fact, as I write this, she’s curled up by my feet, breathing in the cool June morning air and occasionally lifting her head to look at our neighbors walking by below. I’m drinking my coffee. For me, there is so much pleasure to be found in not being rushed.
What simple pleasures are you finding in your summer days?
P.S. Registration is open for The Hello Sessions! It’s a full day of workshops, where you’ll learn about the steps you need to take to make your small business thrive, how to make great videos (without a ton of equipment or video know-how), and how to grow your social media audience through authenticity. Come learn with us in Portland this October!