What's with the end of summer?

As bizarre as it is, apparently it is now the end of summer.

I am taking this hard despite the fact I got a jump start on summer by going to Florida for two months starting in April.

Summer is my season.

Even so this one is a bit of a blur. We started with that horrible week when we drove home in from down south in emergency mode to join my poor daughter for about seven days in and out of hospital with the staff unable to "call" if the baby's heartbeat was still there or not. A full week. I did the rounds after that returning the maternity clothes.

We got through that. 

Because this was also the summer Miss Scarlett learned to swim. And the summer my niece came and learned to knit hats and cook.

It was also the summer my step-daughter had her own scare and went on bedrest.

Most of the local fort manning has been done solo.

My husband got called away to work on a project out of town in July and that will be ongoing until maybe Christmas. At least he is home on the weekends.

I miss him anyway. I like people in the house. I think I was about 35 before I was in a room alone and I sleep better when there are doors being opened and closed (if you have teenage sons that would be microwave doors). But that stops after a while.

The thing about my husband is that he is pretty eccentric. He hasn't found a problem a three inch nail or duct tape can't fix, and he has a limited future as a home decorator or image consultant. In fact we just had two mantlepiece things he had made arrive this morning and they are different styles - for the same room. He can't hear the noises I can hear in the car and can tell me from a chair in the living room that it is just because the wires are wet, whatever that means, and which in Nova Scotia on the ocean is a pretty broad analysis. He once installed an electrical outlet in the ceiling because he ran out of wire and didn't think plugging the lamp cord up to the ceiling is weird. "It works doesn't it?" he said.

He is also shy with new people and is no master of cocktail party small talk. He figures Yes and No and analyzing the possible recipes of everything on the tray should just about cover it.

But the thing is he is the nicest man in the world and he listens. More than anyone I ever met, more than any other man for sure, he knows how to deliver those magic words:

"Tell me all about it." 

Words that are as powerful to the female psyche as that other fabulous line: 

"No I don't think you're crazy."

A person misses a man like that.

So it has been a busy summer and not a lot of sewing got done, apart from some utility stuff (more on that later) and a lot of knitting. Knitting late at night in bed work with Netflix on the iPad and Mr. Rascal trying to take over the pillows.

I can't show you what I have been making however as it's all for presents for Christmas, so I figure the next step is to ban the family from blog reading.

I think I am due to sew again soon.

Since summer is over I need to think about back-to-school clothes for this person at the front of the classroom.

Always a bright side.