All day, I've been feeling a feeling that's hard to name, and I think it's connected with this unseasonably warm weather.
Remember summer vacations as a kid? This feeling I've been feeling is related to summer vacations.
My grandparents had a cottage we would often visit. It was nothing like the luxury lake houses people have now. Their cottage was more like a glorified trailer. There were bedrooms, three of them I think, which seems like a lot except that there were usually at least 10 people staying there at any given time. There was water from some kind of pump for the kitchen, but no running water in the bathroom. No shower. No bathtub. We washed our hair in the lake, which I gather wouldn't be done these days, but that's how we bathed.
We fished off the "government pier" because we didn't have our own dock, or a boat. At the local store, which was in somebody else's cottage, we bought penny candies that were still just a penny. Well, some were 5 cents--depended on the type. My cousins, my sister, and I read and traded Archie comics and built teepees behind the cottage. At night, we sat around the fire listening to our parents' and grandparents' stories. One time we saw the northern lights, which was unusual because we weren't that far north. That memory has no equivalent. I've never seen anything so magical.
Today's feeling is related to this time of my life. Just a moment ago it occurred to me: I feel free.
Summer was the season of no bedtimes (or, at least flexible bedtimes), no homework, no dragging myself out of bed at unreasonable hours of the morning. Every day was candy and play and family and laughter. At least, that's how the filter of time lets me see it. Knowing my childhood, I doubt if I was so happy then. Regardless, compared to the school year, summertime was freedom.
It's well after 4 in the morning as I write this. I'm drinking tea and eating too much gouda, and I have a ton of writing to do, and I'm inexplicably happy. I write for a living. I'm a writer. No bedtimes, no dragging myself up before the sun, and my only homework is self-assigned. I feel free.
Writing is my summer vacation. I hope it goes on forever.
In The Eye, a Torquere Press Menage story:
Dale and Xu are not your typical tornado-chasers. These guys don’t pretend to be in it for the research. It’s a thrill ride for them. Hell, they spend September to May bettering their minds as Grad students, and then spend most of the summer teaching seminar courses. This is their time to kick back before summer session starts. When Susitna begs to come along on their annual adventure, Xu is absolutely opposed to the idea. Dale convinces him to take her on as a driver so they can fulfill their fantasy of getting it on in the backseat during a storm--but they don't tell her that! How will Susitna react to the boys' storm fetish?
For more info: http://www.torquerebooks.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=79_93&products_id=3219