Summertime

Yes, summer officially began last Thursday at 18:06 GMT. So adding 5 hours for EDT and subtracting 12, that means summer arrived on the mountain at 11:06 that morning. I did not give notice that the earth had ceased to wobble toward or away from the sun at that moment in time but did notice that we had a beautiful sunset the previous evening and I could see Buck Mountain up in Grayson County until well after 9:00.


Buck is the farthest mountain, the little round dome at right center of the image, between the two peaks on Fender Mountain. (So, coming towards you, it would be Buck Mountain, Fender Mountain, The Peak and Sheep Rock.)

Summer solstice is another of the great pagan holidays that the Roman Catholic Church has attempted to extinguish under the blanket of a Saint's Day, in this case, St. John the Baptist. (The winter solstice is blanketed, of course, by Christmas.) But, in Sweden and other Scandinavian countries it is still the greatest holiday of the year. And throughout Scandinavia and much of Europe, great bonfires (like this one in Finland) are still built to celebrate Midsummer.


I gave brief thought to building a bonfire on the mountain. But recalling the matter of that accidental one last summer, I just could not rationalize how a bonfire built in celebration of a pagan holiday and it getting out of control under my supervision was going to go over very well with the Sparta-Alleghany Fire Department. Accordingly, as discretion is the better part of valor, I just flicked my Bic instead.

I did manage to get another choir of 30 mushroom logs inoculated and the house cleaned to "guy" standards before Sparky, Large and Talbeau arrived for dinner on Friday evening. We enjoyed a barbecue of brisket and way too much ratafia that night.

I got us lost on the way to the golf course on Saturday morning and we were late for our tee time. Fortunately, the folks at Oak Valley were very understanding and got us on 20 minutes later. I could say that Large and I won Saturday's match but it would more accurate to say that Large won Saturday's match for us as I took a complete hiatus from golf on the back side.

I cooked the boys a bowl of Vinnie DelNegro's Mother's Macaroni Sauce for dinner and all was forgiven.


Now, folks, Sunday began a little unevenly as Large was late to breakfast, completely ignoring the "Shirt & Shoes Required" signage. (Yes, much to everyone's relief, he was wearing pants.)


Somehow we got him dressed in time for golf and here's the whole group -- Dave, Large, Talbeau and Sparky -- on the first tee Sunday morning. The match came down to the last hole and you-know-who blew it with a three-putt, leaving the final results in something of a state of controversy regarding Large's scorecard accountancy. Over lunch, of course, the match was already forgotten and plans were being made for the next golfing sojourn.


The boys returned to the Flatlands and I headed back to Sunset Ridge where we got a late afternoon thundershower, leaving the peaks poking through the clouds down in the valleys afterwards.

Summertime,
And the livin' is easy
Fish are jumpin'
And the cotton is high

Your daddy's rich
And your mamma's good lookin'
So hush little baby
Don't you cry

One of these mornings
You're going to rise up singing
Then you'll spread your wings
And you'll take to the sky

But till that morning
There's a'nothing can harm you
With daddy and mamma standing by

Summertime,
And the livin' is easy
Fish are jumpin'
And the cotton is high

Your daddy's rich
And your mamma's good lookin'
So hush little baby
Don't you cry

(G. Gershwin)