An Indian Summer and personal catch-up

Roy, who most certainly did not want to go on holiday, said, “Well, go on holiday right here. I am taking a holiday day. I am cleaning out the garage. Join me.”

And so, ladies and gentlemen, I have decided to join him in an Indian Summer holiday. Not in cleaning out the garage, though. (Whoever decided gender roles has generally allocated barbecues, mowing the lawn, and cleaning out sheds and garages as male jobs, and far be it from me to mess with gender roles in this case).

I am going to have an Indian summer holiday at home for a few days–rest, pray, garden, declutter, exercise, and then return to writing fresh and unjaded!! Getting together with friends tonight, Friday and on Saturday, at their homes, which is great, company without cleaning.

Incidentally, holidays at home usually do not work for me–I get magnetically attracted to my laptop and books. But I am going to take 3 hours a day at least off the grid and books to exercise, garden, and do some home-loving.

We have two sets of guests coming over next week–and suddenly I looked at my home and garden critically and dispassionately. Yeah, some work could be done to restore some beauty!

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You know, I always assumed that an Indian summer meant a summer like those in India. Yeah, me and Columbus–quite unimaginative!!

However, I listened to Daniel Boorstin’s brilliant history of America on tape a couple of decades ago. In The Americans: The Colonial Experience he tells us the etymology of the phrase. The brilliant summer like weather in the middle of autumn tempted the early settlers out of their walled encampments to enjoy the surprise gift of sunshine.

And behold, Indian raiding parties came thundering down, on the unwitting settlers soaking in the last bit of sunshine. The summer of the Indians. Indian summer!