My Hands are on the Steering Wheel, not the Keyboard

My hands are on the steering wheel not the keyboard. The summer swirls around us, doesn't it? Now, as we head into the dog days of summer, I'm heading off the grid for most of the month. Research for fall. Living in the moment. Making summer moments.

Driving to summer happenings, I'm Miss Frizzle to one young friend when I drive the Magic School Bus, aka: the van with automatic doors and a DVD player and an abundance of friends riding along. And soon, I'll be the Midwest aunt shuttling cousins here and there. These escapades send me headlong into the present. A place where we should all spend a little more time with a lot less worry.

So, I leave here to go be. And while I'm being, the dining room table and the laundry room, together with the piles throughout the house from attempted, intermittent, interrupted sorts, will need to wait for a few more weeks. The crab grass in the flower gardens will continue to add to the greenery around the house. The groundhog's salad bar is open until I find bulk cayenne pepper at the end of the month.

In the coming days, I'll be sorting water balloons, beach towels, and campfires with family and friends. I'll take a pen and paper, but if August follows suit of June and July, my hands will remain on the wheel or the rudder.

Titles for the work of fall, when my tools shift from wheel to keyboard, are already surfacing:

"Growing Up Together 1,000 Miles Apart" "Watching an Iowa Boy Surf" "A Trip to the Emergency Room" (Not to worry, this is a humorous story and no one was injured.) "The Real England: Eton Mess" "How to Break Into a Canal Boat" "A Salad Bar Fit for a Groundhog"

I hope your summer stories are also building. I've left a pile of mine for you, in case your reading material is slim. Check out "About Linda Malcolm" for a few favorites.

Linda Malcolm, over and out.

Happy Hump Day.