A memory a day . . . June . . . .

Just because it’s June, June, June . . . those last days of school, waiting so hard for it to be over and vacation to start. Studying for final exams, would you pass to the next grade and what if you didn’t, sitting in class staring out the window thinking what you could be doing if not ‘trapped’ in school on these lovely days. Walking up the hill from where the bus dropped us off to home, on the dusty dirt road, the smell of the dust, and the wild flowers waving along the side – there were little white ones, on tall stalks, my father called them ‘snaps’ because if you plucked the flower off the stem and snapped it against the back of your hand it would make a very satisfying ‘snap’ or ‘POP’ noise.
There were peony bushes all along the front of our house, and we would pick them to stick in our hair, or maybe bring to a teacher. Oh, they were so pretty, big lush pink and white blooms.
Helping plant the garden, starting to think about which cows to work with over the summer to take to the fair, hoping for an early first cutting of hay even though it would mean all the haying work would start.
Warm days turning hotter, bare feet, shorts, the first day to go swimming! Sitting out on the lawn in the evening, often after dark, with my parents and often other friends or family. It often came before June, but that first evening it was warm enough to sit outside and have a beer.
One year a friend and I rode our horses to the school, we did not have to go if we didn’t have an exam, so we rode over there, quite a ride because we had to plan it on the back roads so as not to be riding along the highway – and we got in trouble (now there’s a surprise!) for riding on the track.
Father’s Day, and my father’s birthday (June 21) were often on the same day, and we would have strawberry shortcake to celebrate those and the end of school.
Graduation. First job away from home.
June is a transition month, bringing us into full summer. And those are some more memories for another time.