How I (gulp) spent my (um) summer vacation ~ July 11, 1985

David Heiller

How I Spent My Summer Vacation

Those six words can send English teachers cringing under their desks. Newspaper readers may likewise cancel their subscriptions as they watch witty editors fall on their faces trying to be creative.

But hold on, don’t wrap those fish heads with this page yet, please. Because I’m sincerely asking myself “How did I spend my summer vacation?”

What David wasn't able to do this particular vacation.

I asked the question Monday morning of this week, as I stood in the kitchen making my lunch. I had spent the past week “on vacation” at home. “Gee, this was a good vacation, huh Cindy?” I said in a tone that sought affirmation.

“Uh huh,” she answered, with neutrality.

“I got a lot done, didn’t I,” I continued in the same voice.

“Uh huh,” she answered.

Some people measure vacations by number of fish caught, or tone of suntan, or monuments visited. I gauge mine by amount of work accomplished on our old farmstead.

“Yeah, I weeded the garden, and I painted the screen door and that window trim, and I got the steps half built...” My sentence stopped in the middle of the kitchen.

Cindy stared at me, like theater buff waiting for the performance to continue.

“That’s all I got done?” I asked, now talking to myself as much as my wife “What have I done for the past week?”

“You mowed the grass twice,” Cindy chipped in. I shook my head—mowing grass doesn’t count. It’s too demeaning, and keeps growing back. (I’ll admit it, I hate mowing grass.)

Brand-new Malika, a compelling reason for a 'stay-cation'.

But as I drove to work later that morning, some other parts of my vacation came to mind, things that us work-aholics need to keep in mind. I thought about the evening bike rides with my son sitting behind me, pedaling past cows and farm dogs and trees, then stopping to pick a handful of daisies and black-eyed Susans to give to Momma on our return. I thought about sitting up past bedtime holding a brand-new baby that likes to stay up for ABC’s Nightline on TV, watching her eyelids sag shut after a busy day of drinking-milk, sleeping, and sitting in the kitchen.

I thought about lying in bed well past sunrise, with both kids still sleeping, seeing blue sky reflecting off a drowsy, smiling lady by my side. I thought about a glassy evening on Long Lake, sitting in a canoe with a friend behind, sunfish on the line, and the summer air as yellow and warm as butter in the cupboard.

All right, I even thought about the smell of freshly cut grass, circling a weed-less garden, with blue paint still fresh-looking on the screen door, and the front steps half finished.

That’s how I spent my summer vacation. For a confessed work-aholic, maybe it wasn’t half-bad.

Now you may proceed to wrap those fish heads with this page. Enjoy your vacation.