Summer Reading
Summer, it turns me upside down.
Summer, summer, summer, it’s like a merry-go-round.
It’s Sunday, and as is typical on a Sunday in July, I’m soaking in the cool green muck that clings to the corners and curves of my pool. Hundred degree days invite the emerald monster to creep in despite due diligence with chemicals and brushing.
I wade in, brush in hand, ready to tackle the task at hand. I scour, scrub and scrape, coaxing the grime away until my shoulders begin to strain. Now and then the handle slips and I grate my knuckles on the side of the pool. The scab from last week was just healing when I manage to grind it off again. I wince just as a breeze kicks up, blowing more oak leaves in. I had just scooped a net-full off. I grab the net again, scooping more leaves and a drowning yellow jacket, too, who had no doubt just buzzed in for a drink. A spider hangs off the coping and refuses to get into the net. I grab the brush again and whisk it away. A water bug swims around my waist. He’s swift and cunning, but I finally catch him and hoist him onto the deck. Sydney, my yellow lab, sniffs at the hopping pest then quickly moves on to other smells in the yard. I feel something crawling on my back.
“EEee-OOoo-AAhh!” The crawler turns out to be the string from my bathing suit.
Sydney has noticed my flailing and cursing and has come to the edge of the pool with one of my flip flops in her mouth. In her younger days, it was hard to keep her out of the pool. Now at twelve and a half, it’s usually one lap around and we call it a day. She looks eager to give it a whirl, so I take the shoe from her mouth.
“Okay, girl, go get it!”
I fling the flop to the center of the pool. As soon as it smacks down, she puts her two front feet on the top step for a moment, then hops back out. She does this a couple more times, with her eyes darting from me to the flip flop. I offer more encouragement and soon she is mid-air, flying gracefully and getting some serious hang time before crashing down, sending plumes of water over the deck. She snakes like a serpent through the water to the prize before snatching it up with her jaws. With the flop in her clutches, she makes her way back to the steps, panting through the sides of her mouth. As soon as she is out, water sprays everywhere as she shakes off. She finds a nearby bush to rake her dry and I look around to admire my hard work. The pool is now sparkling, which means I can relax and crack open one of my books.
I’ve amassed quite a library for summer reading; an ambitious list that I am determined to get through by summer’s end. I'm terrible with books right now. If I “happen upon” Amazon.com, or find myself browsing the stacks at the bookstore, I am like Imelda in a shoe store - I must have them all, in every color and style. And now, books are strung out all over the house, half-read, which could easily get me diagnosed as having adult ADD. Here is the aftermath of the hoarding:
On the bed-side: Erica Jong’s Fear of Flying, Bradbury's F. 451 (both signed by the authors), a humorous book about grammar (yes, grammar - I know, I'm sick), a writing book (for that novel I’ll never write), Barbara Ehrenreich’s most recent, a John Grisham…you’re getting the gist, this is no Oprah Book Club list.
On the coffee table: The Rise of the Creative Class along with the follow-up, The Flight of the Creative Class, an Al Franken book, and a Bush-bash by Bob Woodward. You’ve probably figured out my system; the boring books get banished to the coffee table where they will look nice and make me look smart if company comes.
And lastly, on my PDA: Freakonomics, which I can read on the plane. When am I going to be on a plane?
All are dog-eared at roughly a quarter to half-way through. I call it Snider's Half-Read Library. Like my Netflix queue, which is now in the triple digits, it is but a sad and constant reminder of everything I will never get to; best intentions unrealized. I revel in imaging the possibilities, though.
What’s on your summer reading list?
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Comments (1)
Just finished Lynne Twist's The Soul of Money. Finishing up Ojai resident David Allen's Getting Things Done. Re-reading a book on American History from my long-ago college days. And always a stack of magazines.
Comment #1 Posted by: Tyler | July 10, 2006 12:25 AM