The school year ends...and continues

It's the last week of my husband's school year. How is that possible when it was raining yesterday? Having it be cold and wet on May 22nd has been completely disorienting. By mid-May I am usually well into my warm weather inner dialog that goes something like this, "I won't complain about the heat all day. I won't. I won't." Instead, on these chilly May mornings, I reach for my sweater or, even better, snuggle deeper under the down comforter for "five more minutes." This weather may be disorienting, but it is blissfully so.

So, we prepare for the next season of the year. Summer for us doesn't mean "pack away those school books", though. This week we will finish up some subjects, but with Dad the History Teacher home we will delve into a study of American history for the summer. We'll be reading and mapping and time lining our way through the years before, during and after the Revolutionary War. I can't wait.

Latin and math will continue through the summer, too. Why Latin? Well, because it's important. We (well, some parts of "we") love it, and we (and I do mean WE) are going to drill vocabulary in preparation for next year's Latin class. Why math? Because math for our family is like a cranky relative who gets resentful if you don't visit often enough. Take the summer off? Well, you could get the cold shoulder for weeks, maybe months. It's as if you'd never seen each other before. All those afternoons getting acquainted over tea could be for naught! So, we take care to nurture our math relationships all summer long. It saves a lot of trouble, and a lot of wasted time.

We have a stack of books to read, movies we'll finally have time to watch, and plenty of vacation time. It's a little dizzy to look at the whole summer schedule. Our school days are sandwiched between canoe trips, camping, travels to Oregon, a wedding, an anniversary, and what I know will be hours of gardening, talking, walking, bird watching, drawing, photographing and the other colorful threads that weave together to make our summer life rich.

As nice as it sounds, it usually takes us about a week to adjust our expectations to the plan. Having a second parent around is heavenly, but it also means that I need to coordinate with someone else. I am no longer Lone Ranger, and that is a really good thing. But, sometimes I forget. Maybe, just maybe this time I can skip the week of transition and move right into the dance of shared life. My husband faithfully makes my morning coffee, so I can cheerfully make his lunch; as he discusses history with the older students, I can be reading aloud to the youngers; when he suggests an early morning visit in the garden, I can get my slug body out of bed and join him before the heat settles into the hillside. There's a lot of potential here, I just have to remember that I am no longer dancing alone; we are a team.

Better start freezing some espresso for afternoon cold drinks. My latte partner is almost home for the summer.