My own summer and I'm sad to see you go.

By Barbara Phinney
Linda wrote yesterday about summer. Wasn't that a great pic of her! It prompted me to ask myself how I spent the summer. We had a lousy start weather wise and up here in New Brunswick, Canada, we depend on the weather for summer. We only have a couple of months and when one of them is riddled with cold wet weather, we grumble and growl.
August was lovely. We had hot weather and I moved my daughter's potted palm outside, and created an oasis for myself on the front deck.
And like Linda, I wrote. I'm still writing, still on a deadline, and still sweating bullets to get that story out.
We also raised money for a mission trip that will happen next year. We went to a lovely local market every Saturday morning and sold pickles, bread, birdhouses, handmade dishcloths, and windchimes. With folk music playing and the scents of barbecued sausages in the air, we had it made. My hubby would treat me to a coffee and a samosa, or some sushi from a friend who also comes on Saturdays.
But my latest work in progress is not set in a local market, and my heroine doesn't breathe in the scent of coffee, sausages and samosas. She isn't relaxing and talking to everyone and telling them about our fundraiser.
She's in sweltering Florida, and right now her life is being revised.
And as fall slips in, our weather revises itself, our deadlines loom and deadly situations rise and fall in my manuscript, I say goodbye to summer. We've had our first killing frost, and the geese are flying overhead.
Goodbye summer. It was nice enjoying you.