Sunday column: Summer school

The hot and humid weather this week has felt like Mother Nature fast-forwarded through spring straight into summer.
Summer has a certain feel to it, and although it hasn’t officially arrived yet (not until June 21 this year), that summer feeling is starting to set in.
There are many, many days of glaring sunshine and wet, heavy air that lay ahead of us, and I can’t help but wonder what this summer has in store.
As I think back on summers past, some are a blur of hot days and sticky nights, while others bring specific images and sensations to mind.
The months of June, July and August have always been educational periods in my life, even when I didn’t mean for them to be. It’s amazing what we can learn when we’re left to our own devices. Here’s a quick summary of some of my summertime life lessons.

In August of 1992, me and Tara were 10 and Erin was 12. Here we are at Grandma and Grandpa's house hamming it up before bed.

Summer of 1990
In my pre-teen years, it became a summer tradition for me and Tara, a cousin who is about my age, to spend some time at Grandma and Grandpa’s house in Bunkie. Grandpa was a carpenter who spent his days at the shop, and Grandma was a retired nurse who cooked up all kinds of projects to keep Tara and me entertained. We’d work all day on some sort of craft and greet Grandpa at the door in the evening to show him the finished product. We’d take turns checking the mailbox in the afternoons for letters from our moms (Grandma and Grandpa’s daughters). At night after supper, we’d watch the two of them play Scrabble. Tara and I didn’t usually play, because we were too intimidated to take on the masters. They were serious about their Scrabble.
Lessons learned:
• Diving into a craft project every once in a while can be good for your self-esteem and for your fine motor skills.
• There’s nothing quite like a handwritten letter.
• Grandparents are wonderful; treasure every opportunity you have to spend time with them.

Here I am blowing bubbles with Matthew in Uncle Eddie and Aunt Chris' playroom. Allison, who is just a little older than Matthew, is playing on the floor.

Summer of 1995
Before starting high school, I escaped from home for a summer to spend time with my aunt and uncle who had a 1-year-old and a brand new baby. My cousin (not Tara, this time it was Valerie) and I stayed with them to pitch in as the family adjusted to its newest member. We did what we could to help out with their firstborn, a redheaded little boy who was going through a screaming phase that summer. And when I say screaming, I mean a high-pitched screech I didn’t know a human could produce.
Lessons learned:
• Even though you may want to, you just can’t let a baby cry himself to sleep.
• Having family around to help you is a beautiful thing.
• You have to grow up a little bit before you can be responsible for somebody else.

Summer of 2002
After three years of learning about being a journalist, I was ready to test the waters. I snagged an internship at a monthly music and entertainment magazine in New Orleans the summer between my junior and senior years of college. It was a part-time, unpaid internship that involved things like getting the editor coffee from the CC’s down the block, interviewing bartenders for the magazine’s annual bar guide and designing back-page ads for escort services. Anytime I had the opportunity to write something for publication, the editor kept telling me to make it “edgy and irreverent.” When I wasn’t working there, I had a part-time job in retail with some of the nicest people ever and spent time with my great-aunt, who I lived with.
Lessons learned:
• I am not edgy or irreverent, no matter how hard I try.
• The reality of writing and editing for a publication is a world away from a college classroom.
• New Orleans isn’t so big and scary, once you get used to it.

A sample of my reading material one year ago. The sad thing is I haven't thrown all those magazines away yet.

Summer of 2007
I was all in a tizzy trying to plan the most beautiful, special and perfect wedding all time. And, I succeeded! Nevermind the fact that my apartment was in a constant state of disarray, with half-made silk flower arrangements, wedding magazines, photos and photo albums and notebooks full of lists covering every surface. I had a multi-page to-do list written in black Sharpie taped to my living room wall and a calendar that dictated my every move for months. Somehow though, amid all the wedding planning fury, I managed to keep the true meaning of what I was doing in the forefront 99.9 percent of the time. But I have to admit, I did have a few bridezilla moments — I’m not perfect.
Lessons learned:
• No matter what anyone tells you, you really do need every single bridal magazine that hits the stands while you’re planning your wedding.
• As long as you remember what’s really important about the wedding, everything else will fall into place.
• Sometimes in life, you have to be flexible.

Hollie and I work together to build a house in Mexico. That's one summer experience I didn't write about this time, but I have in the past. I could probably write a whole column just about the lessons I learned from that experience.