July

July is one of my favorite months, because I love the way it smells.  It smells like a summer thunderstorm -- heavy drops scattering the dust on the hot pavement.  A fresh breeze blowing the smell of cool green out of the canyons.  Chlorine on skin.  Cut grass and garden mint.  Raspberry.  I love the way it feels.  Warm bare feet on the carpet, in the grass.  A trickle of sweat at the hairline.  Sun on elbows and knees.  I love the way it looks.  Deep blue and bright white and dark green.  Purple stained fingers.  The colors are vivid in July.  Here is what our hollyhocks look like in July.

My only problem with July is the amount of yard work we have to do.  Because of all the travel in June, the garden is overgrown and needs serious weeding and trimming.  The black raspberries have been ripening.  We have picked several buckets this year, but many more have dried on the bushes, and many more still lie pale or red, waiting for a few more hot days to turn dark juicy purple.  The currants needed picking, too.  I gave about 8 cups of currants to my brother and his family.  I have at least that many left.  This year I'm going to make jam.  Must it be done in July?  And then there are the sour cherries, which we picked a little too late this year, and the apricots -- six have fallen off the tree, and the summer apples. 

Jonathan was at a robotics camp last week, held at the northern tip of the city five cities north of here.  He loved the camp.  He built a robot that could run around obstacles.  But the commute was a pain.  After two days of driving 40 minutes each way, I found the fifth city's public library, and spent four and a half hours writing research papers there while Jonathan built robots.  I was actually quite productive.  This week Jonathan will be in morning swimming lessons, which aren't long enough for me to accomplish much, but afternoon adventure camps.  I've been shuffling my grad student meetings around, trying to fit them in with Jonathan's schedule.  Apologizing.  Tim is out of town, so timing gets complicated.  Luckily my job is flexible.  I'm trying to write two research paper drafts by August, and although each amounts to hours and hours or work, they can be written in the library, or late at night, or early in the morning.  Only the student meetings, the exam writing, the administrative work needs to be done on campus. 

My dad's birthday is in July.  Jonathan and I drove about 10 cities north to wish him happy birthday yesterday.  Can you figure out how old he is?   (Hint:  the candles are read correctly from his direction, not from the direction of the camera.)

And that's about it.  Sunshine, sprinklers, canyon breezes, raspberries, and commuting around the two-county metropolitan area.  July is wonderful.