The Theatrical Days of Summer

Ah, the theatah.

There's been a fair amount of it around here this summer. And we're good with that.

In June, Ramona and I were both involved with the local youth theater summer camp. I had the fun and privilege of adapting a beautiful picture book, The Rough-Face Girl, into a play. Do you know this book? (How did I not know this book before this summer? I mentioned it to Anne-with-an-e, my librarian, who replied, "Oh, yeah, Mom, that's a great book. You can find it in 398.2, Folklore and Fairy Tales.")

I fell in love with the story and the illustrations, and had a marvelous time crafting this lovely story into a play. 

Ramona was in another of the four short plays produced that week. She had a busy, exhausting, exhilarating whirlwind of participating in all aspects of play production. Theater camp has the kids rotate through everything: acting workshops, sets, costumes, lighting, and it all culminates in two performances at the end of the week. I just love the people who run our youth theater camps -- they are talented, dedicated, creative, and so full of heart. What a gift. 

Ramona will have another chance to be involved in a couple of weeks, with the junior camp (for 5-9 year olds). She'll be in a leadership role this time, helping out with the costuming workshops. 

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This week, she enjoyed a quick, two-day, "Short Film" camp sponsored by the library and the community college. The kids produced two short films, complete with fun, Stranger Things-ian special effects. It was fun to hear Ramona's behind-the-scenes stories, which included the fact that the door that mysteriously slammed shut was powered by my daughter, lying on the floor, kicking hard. The magic of movie-making. 

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In other theater news ... our current musical obsession? Hadestown. 

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Speaking of obsessions, our final encounter with theater this week came on Wednesday when tickets for Hamilton went on sale in our area. My daughters joined me as we parked in the virtual waiting room to buy tickets online and even though Betsy was 2,789th in line (to buy for our family) and I was 6,149th in line (to buy for my mom) we managed (in under 90 minutes) to score six orchestra level seats. (We were willing to Wait for It.) So, our whole family will finally be seeing Hamilton, along with my 84-year-old mom, who has never before been interested in hip-hop, but is extremely excited to spend some time with Alexander. (So are we. I mean, I may or may not have mentioned Hamilton a few times in the past couple of years....) 

Poetry Friday: William Carlos Williams and Some Meandering Thoughts

"In summer the song sings itself." 

~ William Carlos Williams, 
"The Botticellian Trees"

I always think there's going to be a certain feel to summer, and there is, for certain. but it's never quite the vibe I anticipate. 

Before its arrival, I daydream about summer's long, lazy days. I picture a tall, cold glass of lemonade (though I rarely drink lemonade), and see myself lying by the pool (except that I haven't done that for years.) I think about the endless, unscheduled hours, and I happily plan on not planning anything to fill them, other than reading everything I can get my hands on. 

Then summer always "arrives" too soon. In mid-to-late May, when I'm still adjusting to the idea and the reality of the school year wrapping up, the world is announcing, "SUMMER!" Schools are dismissing, the library is revving up its summer reading program, vacations are being planned and announced, and people start asking, "How's your summer going?" I startle, and blink, and reply, "I, um, don't know. My summer hasn't started yet. It isn't even June yet. How did this happen?" 

Summer, with all its attendant activities, is always busier than I think it will be or should be. And part of me still wants to live in a world that I haven't known for decades (a world that maybe I never knew?) A world that still treats August as part of summer. Every year, in early August, I rail at the world, like a crazy woman: "It's August 9th! Why is school starting? Why are the pools closing? Why aren't the lazy days of summer just now coming into their own? What's wrong with waiting until after Labor Day, huh, huh? Crazy, meddling air-conditioning! You changed everything about summer and school-start-dates!" (But let's be clear ... I would die without air-conditioning. I DO NOT WANT TO LIVE IN A WORLD WITHOUT AIR CONDITIONING. That shuts up the crazy woman inside me.) 

I always settle down, of course. When my inner crazy lady coils and prepares to strike, I remind myself that there is a certain feel to summer. And I love it. The plans that do fill up the calendar are deliciously voluntary. The night-owl nights are possible because Atticus and I aren't getting up at 5:30 every morning. Math is absent from everyone's life in the summertime, and who could ask for more? Our days unfold with a lovely balance of planning and coasting. 

Sure, about this time in July, I realize that summer, as defined by my husband's job, is indeed careening by, that Atticus will go back to work in all-too-short a time (and that my summer chef will be gone!), that my school year with Ramona is just around the corner. I'm reminded that routine will return, and the days will eventually grow shorter, but for now ... it's still summer. 

And the song is singing itself. 

Summer Song
by William Carlos Williams

Wanderer moon
smiling a
faintly ironical smile
at this
brilliant, dew-moistened
summer morning,—
a detached
sleepily indifferent
smile, a
wanderer's smile,—
if I should
buy a shirt
your color and
put on a necktie
sky-blue
where would they carry me?

(This poem is in the public domain.)

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Jone Rush MacCulloch has the Poetry Friday roundup for this week.