The Simple Life

"I think I'll walk around the house...doing nothing!" I said to Kidlet B yesterday.  It's no surprise for my lazy attitude.   This is my first summer in my entire teaching career that I haven't been doing something - whether that be coursework, working another job, or workshops.  Unfortunately strolling around the house was short lived, as sun poisoning from last Friday has prevented me from doing much walking anywhere.  And yes, far be it for me to do nothing for very long.

There are postcards to write.  A novel to work on.  Dishes to wash since the dishwasher broke.  Laundry to fold.  Books to read that I didn't get to last summer.  The list goes on and on.  I thought about it, and realized I truly need to learn how to relax.  Yesterday I actually did watch a movie and knit for about an hour and a half.  However, the movie was "The Wolf of Wall Street."  There was only so much debauchery I could take, and I still have another half of the movie to go through.

But this summer is about the simple things.  The day at the beach was just that.  Jumping in the waves, ham sandwiches packed in L.L. Bean lunch bags, the smell of sunscreen (yes, I did have it on), sand on towels.  Despite my nasty burn, I would not trade that day with Kidlet A and Kidlet B for anything.

This week I've had the chance to revisit my grandmothers in mindful ways.  They were two women who always reminded me to appreciate the small things in life as well.

My dishwasher broke.  It just won't clean.  Plates come out with specks of, well, stuff on them.  To quote one kidlet, "This is gross."  Yes, we clean our plates off before putting them in the dishwasher, but obviously our ten year old dishwasher has decided it's time to move on.  As we await for the new one to arrive, I've been doing the dishes by hand.  One of my fondest memories is doing dishes with my Grandmother Berg in Vermont.  She would slowly, methodically wash each dish, and I would dry.  Above all else, we would have the most amazing conversations while cleansing the plates and cutlery.  This wasn't always small talk.  I recall her giving me advice about life, and at times knots would form in my stomach as to what my future may hold.  She was blind, yet never dropped a dish.

My other grandmother, who passed away a few months ago, was meticulous with cleaning.  Me?  Well, let's be honest.  Not so much.  My dad passed along a box of her towels from her home shortly after her death, and I finally opened it yesterday.  I've always been told I have a "nose" - an incredible sense of smell.  When I opened the box, the fresh scent of clean towels was Nana!  I was unashamed to bury my head in them and just inhale the aroma.  Clean.  Not like the fake Yankee Candle "Fresh Linen" you can purchase, but one that makes you think of being all bundled up after a bath in childhood.  I regretfully hung one towel on the back of the bathroom door, not without breathing in - Nana, Nana, Nana - one more time before thinking that the towel would be used tomorrow.

I am so grateful for these simple things.  Let summer be filled with them!