REFLECTION | LIFE

Summer May Be Over For the Farmers But For Me It’s Just Beginning

Summer has lost its entire meaning for me this year so I’m reinventing it

August 20th is the date I heard the farmers in Cornwall declare, each year, that summer is over.

Farmers divide the year according to the crop cycles. At the point when warm nights are no longer guaranteed, it’s time to harvest the summer yield.

And that’s where we are now. Summer may last a while longer for us sun-worshippers but there is definitely a change in the air. While the sun is still beating down with the warmth that August dictates, a strong breeze has been blowing constantly for the last couple of days, making my bare arms and legs feel exposed in a way they haven’t felt for a while.

Normally, I start to feel sad at this point, mourning the loss of my favourite time of the year before it’s even over. But this year, I feel differently. This year, I didn’t really have what I normally consider to be a blissful summer, filled with swimming, sunning, and sipping cold drinks on the decking.

This year, the summer months, like the rest of the year that has just passed, was spent holding my breath in anticipation of happier, easier times.

And now, those times are just getting started.

For the last few days, I have been away from home, having what I consider to be the much-needed break I have been working up to for some time.

Not a traditional kind of vacation but one where I am taking care of someone’s dog in return for a chance to be somewhere alone, with time to focus on me.

And it’s been perfect. My days have literally been doing exactly what I have wanted to do interspersed with long walks with Rhu, the dog I’m looking after. We have walked miles every day and I still am finding plenty of time to simply chill, write, read, check out some of the local surroundings, and feel rested.

The scenery is not exactly a far cry from my home county of Devon. Sure, Somerset is wealthier and that is reflected in the housing, the local businesses, and the old buildings that make up the town centre. With it comes a cleanliness and tidiness that is accentuated here. Not that we’re messy and dirty in Devon, just rough around the edges.

Heck, even the painter-decorator I saw standing outside the beautiful old pub in town looked well-groomed and as if the splashes of paint on his overalls were fresh and perfectly shining.

And it’s flatter than Devon. Fortunately, I’m in a hilly part of Somerset. Otherwise, I’d be far too homesick. But just five miles away from here is where the Somerset levels begin, and that is flat as a flipping pancake. NOT while it’s being flipped.

The point is that I’m actually getting enough of a change of scene and routine to feel like I’m actually having a holiday, for the first time in a very long time.

And although I will be heading home tomorrow, where chaos still reins more than a year after I began offering up my home to family who needed support, this little break feels like it’s enough to see me through until my sister and her kids finally complete on the purchase of their own home, within the next ten days.

In August last year, a little before I was quite ready for them, my sister brought her son to live at my house and go to the local college.

It was all planned, except for one thing. I hadn’t known that my sister was going to walk out of her marital home just before they came over, and that their entire supposed security had now collapsed to nothing.

When I had initially agreed to this arrangement, it was on the basis that my hospitality was for term time only. And that during the holidays, he would return to France, where his parents and sister were living.

But he had different plans. And he had nowhere to return to except the unwelcoming house where his dad now lived alone.

My sister’s family were in a crisis situation, so who was I to think about except for them?

Certainly not myself.

The mid-term break passed by and then Christmas came and went. By the end of January I was hosting my niece and an extra dog on a full-time basis, and my sister and two more dogs on a part-time basis.

It was busy. It was chaotic.

Often the fridge wasn’t shut properly so food spoiled. I threw out heaps of wasted veggies.

Other times, the freezer wasn’t shut properly so I needed to empty it and defrost it.

The many dogs and humans covered the floor in dirt and malting fur every day, so I worked at keeping that at bay.

The carpets looked mucky within a day or two of being vacuumed so I tried to stay on top of it.

Each time the cupboards and fridge were refilled, they were emptied again within days. So I gave up trying to go to the supermarket to buy enough food and, instead, set up a twice-per-week delivery schedule, choosing to spend a couple of hours each week ordering everything we might need.

And then we had to work out who was going to be cooking for that many mouths each day. Or maybe we didn’t. It was more a case of who it fell to…

Mostly me.

The work was relentless and endless. My ability to focus on the things I needed to focus on for my own livelihood was fast diminishing.

Things weren’t looking good, and they were feeling even worse.

I reached the point where I could no longer cover my frustration and annoyance with a smear of patience and a plastered-on smile. I wasn’t holding back any longer and it wasn’t pretty.

So summer this year has consisted of many huffs and sighs. It’s consisted of trying to find any excuse to stay out of the house for as long as possible because anything is better than being there.

Forget long evenings watching the sunset, or days at the beach. It’s been about surviving these final few weeks until I can breathe in my own home again.

Thankfully, I found somewhere else to learn to breathe again. Now I just need to transfer that skill back to the Devon hills with me on my return.

Just for ten more days.

This year, I don’t think I will be even slightly bothered by the cooling-off of the nights or the September winds. I don’t even think I’ll find the first leaves dropping or the dark evenings off-putting.

I have a feeling I’ll notice the sun shining even on days when the heavens open all day long, as they like to do in Devon in the autumn and winter months (and often in spring and summer too).

The summer may be over for the farmers and their growing season, but, to me, summer means something entirely different this year. It may turn out to last quite a lot longer than summers usually do.

Yeah, I’m ready for this.