What I Learned This Summer

by Lois Flowers

The transition from summer to fall seems to take an awfully long time around here. The kids go back to school in mid August, which totally makes it seem like the new season is upon us. But then the thermometer keeps climbing back up over 90 with a frustrating degree of regularity, which makes it seem like summer is never going to end.

(Can you guess which one of the four seasons is not my favorite?)

Even though it officially won’t be fall for another couple of weeks, it is time for my quarterly list of seasonal learnings. So here we go:

• Sometimes, you just have to pack up and go to Iowa. (Or wherever it is that refreshes your spirit and rejuvenates your soul.)

As I shared here and here, before, the girls and I have been trekking north to visit my college roommate Rachel and her family every summer for several years. This year, Lilly’s first real job promised to keep her very busy and I wasn’t sure if our annual trip to the farm was going to happen.

Rachel understood when I emailed her about this disappointing possibility, but she also added this: “I know you personally need the rest and relaxation of Iowa, so I hope we can get it on the schedule.”

Even so, as the summer wore on, I pretty much resigned myself to not going. Then, happily, a hole opened in our calendar that looked a lot like Iowa.

We spent the early part of August in the Hawkeye State, first among the cornfields at Rachel’s farm and then at my younger sister’s historic home about an hour from Des Moines.

Turns out, Rachel was right. I did need the rest and relaxation of Iowa, much more than I previously realized.

• Beauty really is in the eye of the beholder.

Due to the extreme heat and lack of rain we experienced in June and July, my flowerbeds have really struggled this summer. Perennials that normally grow so much they have to be cut back at least once or twice have sort of just languished, and some have even died out completely.

I walk around the perimeter of my yard and can’t help but feel a bit discouraged. Where I would normally see bushy plants, I see stunted growth. Where there would normally be plants overlapping and growing into each other, I see a lot more mulch-covered ground.

And yet, when I share my feelings with Randy, his answer surprises me.

“Your gardens have never looked better,” he says.

And though I can’t see it, I know he means it.

• If your word for the year is bold, there’s really no way you can justify buying boring frames when you get your first pair of bifocals.

I know—I packed a whole lot of information into that sentence. I’ll let you sort it all out, read between the lines, whatever you want. I will post a picture, though. Not everyone goes for bling on their eyewear, but I think my new frames are pretty awesome.

• Hummingbirds are nature’s tiny joy machines.

We have a feeder on our back deck, right where we can see it from our dining room table. When we first put it out—following the first hummingbird sighting we’ve had in several years—we couldn’t wait for our first little visitor to appear.

It’s been several weeks, and the fascination still hasn’t worn off. Whenever one of us catches a glimpse of fluttering wings in our peripheral vision, conversation around the table stops for a minute and we just sit there and watch nature unfold.

• When people inspire us, we need to tell them.

Last week, Lilly ran her first cross-country race. It was hot and she was nervous. But she finished strong and improved her time over her earlier runs.

I was proud of her because I’m her mom and I’ve always loved to watch her run, but also because running two miles in front of an audience is not something I could ever do.

The next morning on the treadmill, I got to the point where I just wanted to quit. I had been sick earlier in the week and missed a few days of exercise, which always sets me back.

But every time I thought about stopping before my time goal, I thought of Lilly running her race. If she can run for two miles, surely I can run for two more minutes, I instructed myself.

So I kept going. Afterwards, I told her. “You inspired me to keep going, even though I really wanted to stop,” I said.

Seeing her face light up when she heard my words made me realize yet again the power of encouragement. It really is a gift that never stops giving.

There’s my list. Now what did you learn this summer?

Lois

When people inspire us, we need to tell them. Click To Tweet

P.S. I’m linking up this week with Emily FreemanLet’s Have CoffeePurposeful Faith, #TellHisStory, Faith on Fire, Faith ‘n Friends and Grace & Truth.

Leave a Comment

14 comments

Mary Geisen September 6, 2018 - 7:22 pm

Sounds like a great summer! Love your glasses! You look great with some bling. I have a brother and family who live near Cedar Rapids. It sounds like I need to visit them to get an Iowa fix. They usually head my direction so it doesn’t happen often.

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Lois Flowers September 7, 2018 - 8:41 am

Aw … thanks, Mary! “Iowa fix” … yes, I think that is actually a thing! Hugs, friend. 🙂

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Susan Shipe September 5, 2018 - 4:40 am

Those glasses! You inspire me!

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Lois Flowers September 7, 2018 - 8:43 am

Thanks, Susan! The glasses are pretty great, aren’t they? 🙂

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Michele Morin September 4, 2018 - 5:55 pm

“Nature’s tiny joy machines!”
Yes!
And it’s been very dry here, too, Lois, so my garden is getting crunchy, and even the weeds are looking dilapidated. But somehow . . . the tomatoes keep producing!

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Lois Flowers September 7, 2018 - 8:44 am

Now that’s a good indicator of dryness, Michele … “even the weeds are looking dilapidated.” I love it!

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Lesley September 4, 2018 - 2:45 pm

This is a great list! I’m glad you got to go to Iowa and I love your frames!
One thing I’ve been learning about this summer is balancing my time better and knowing when to say no!

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Lois Flowers September 7, 2018 - 8:50 am

Thanks, Lesley! Those are important lessons … I need to learn them too, especially the one about balancing time. 🙂

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Linda Stoll September 4, 2018 - 9:21 am

Love those cute frames on you!

And there’s nothing like gathering eggs to connect us with the basics of our food supply. I remember doing so as a kid.

Transitioning with you, friend …

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Lois Flowers September 7, 2018 - 8:49 am

Thanks, Linda. The journey is easier when we can do it together, isn’t it? 🙂

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Bethany September 4, 2018 - 7:10 am

Sweet lessons!! I think your new frames and awesome and I’m so glad you got to go to Iowa. Totally agree on the hummingbirds too- we have a shrub that attracts them and I love sitting there and being mesmerized when those speedy wings come into my view. As for other lessons learned this summer— several. One that stands out is that sweating because you’re working hard on something that matters makes sticky gross much more enjoyable.

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Lois Flowers September 7, 2018 - 8:48 am

Ooo … I know exactly what you mean about sticky gross, Bethany. During the summer, I lose a lot of sleep because I’m just too hot. But put me outside with my gardening bucket on a Saturday morning and I don’t mind the heat at all, even when sweat is literally pouring off my head! 🙂

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Alyson | WriteThemOnMyHeart September 4, 2018 - 6:56 am

Hi Lois, I enjoyed your list! Makes me want to go to Iowa! (I’ve never been.)

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Lois Flowers September 7, 2018 - 8:45 am

Thanks, Alyson! I think Iowa gets overlooked a lot (sort of like my home state of Kansas). But I have to say, Iowa is much prettier than Kansas!

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