This year, Summer will begin in the Summer. Tiny “snow-emergencies” nibbled away at the school-year, and now summer vacation begins in June’s last full week. All the kids I know cheered every falling flake this Winter, and I don’t think they know that a week of vacation has been burned.
The week that would have buffered school and camp is gone. What’s gone is a week of Liam waking up after eight and watching Sccoby-Doo. It was going to be a slow week; we would have eaten Richie’s Old-Fashioned Slush every day and maybe snuck off to an afternoon movie. It would be a week of last-minute plans for boys in the park, and there would been some serious scootering.
This year, school ends on Thursday, camp starts on Monday. That is that. Camp passes week by week; a week here, a week there, some crazy stuff, some kung fu, and lots of playing. Only a few kids I know pack it into a trunk and head somewhere new. Liam might be ready for that Months of sleep away camp in Maine are years off, perhaps fewer years than I realize.
When I was going into the 4th grade, my new school sent us a reading list. Five books by the end of the Summer, that was an order I gladly followed. I poured over that list, underlining what looked intriguing. I revisited it after finishing each book, and it suggested books I hadn’t even considered. That school gave a lot of orders, and I by the 8th Grade I was sick of the place before breakfast on the first day of school, but that Summer I loved my reading-list.
Okay, yeah I know, I’ve always been a girly-geek. Let’s be clear; the best parts of Summer were swimming all day, hanging around with friends and not being in school. Trips and seeing my grandparents were more fun than anything. And I’m not saying camp wasn’t fun but the reading was a good way to end the day.
I went to sleep away camp when I was fourteen and fifteen. It was practically a free-love artist colony after a solid year of sex-segrigated education in a Republican stronghold, and I loved it. What with theater, tie-dye and making out with boys, I didn’t read as much those Summers as I had read other years. As it should be, but that’s just my opinion
I trust that Ms. Clapham will suggest books she’d like the kids to read, and I’m also she’ll have at least one she’ll insist they read. Last year’s book was Charlottes Web, and I had really missed reading that one with him; reading it alone had been his choice. I hope he enjoys the reading -list.
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