It’s about that time, folks – time for a summer reading slump, maybe.  I think I might be that unusual reader who reads less in the summer, in general.  Those long light evenings notwithstanding – they are good for reading, I can’t deny that – I find myself so much on the go during the summer that reading often takes a hit.  I’ve always got a book on the go, but I don’t churn through them the way I do during the colder months, and I am not really a big vacation reader (I told this to a friend recently, and she was shocked – but I’m more interested in taking in beautiful scenery that I don’t see every day, and spending time with family or friends).

This summer, books have taken an even harder hit than usual, because my commute is weird.  Have I complained about this once or twice or a dozen times?

For the past three-plus years, I’ve been commuting on public transit – specifically, the D.C. Metro.  Metro definitely has its detractors, and there have been times when I’ve been frustrated by wait times or crowded trains.  And I don’t even want to talk about the time a man sneezed in my purse – yes, that happened, years ago.  But after driving to work for two years in Buffalo, I was thrilled to get back to public transportation.  No more fighting traffic, it’s better for the environment, and – maybe the best part – I can read on the train!

At least, up until this summer!  Metro is rebuilding a bunch of platforms, including the platform at my home station, and the result is that there’s no service near my house from Memorial Day until Labor Day.  Fortunately, my firm is both flexible and understanding, so I’ve been keeping a weird summer schedule that involves driving to work at the crack of dawn two or three days per week and leaving mid-afternoon to beat traffic, and working from home the rest of the time.  No one at work has minded, but as for me – I am itching to get back to my regular routine.  I don’t know about you, but it’s hard for me to get out of the house at 6:30 a.m. or earlier with two small children underfoot as I try to speed through my morning routine.  I hate driving the city streets, I haven’t always been able to avoid traffic despite my best efforts and have had a few 90-minute-plus commutes, and – worst of all – I can’t read on my commutes anymore.  (Sure, I could listen to audiobooks, and I intended to do some of that, but I’ve just found myself catching up on podcasts, which is also fine.)  Losing my reading commutes means losing about an hour of reading time each day (30 minutes each way), and I’ve had to work after bedtime many nights this summer in order to compensate for leaving early to beat traffic – with the result being that when I do finally open my book, it’s often after 9:00 and I am both exhausted and short on time before lights-out so I can do it all again the next day.

And it’s a vicious cycle.  The less time I have to read, the less inspired I am to pick up a book.  Even when it’s something I’m really enjoying – like Mrs. Dalloway, right now – it’s hard to get into it because I know I won’t be able to sink in and really immerse myself in the story, and I don’t see the pages ticking away like I do when I have that extra time to read during my commute.  Take tonight, for instance.  I’ve worked at least an hour after bedtime every night this week, and I promised myself that tonight I’d come straight down after putting Nugget to bed and pick up my book – but I think I’m going to have to work again.  Between losing the hour of commute-reading and being on a strange interrupted schedule, I feel like a reader who barely reads.

At least I know this is temporary.  Come Labor Day, the Metro platform will be open and trains will be running again, and I’ll be back to my usual commute-time reading.  And the weather will start getting cooler, and I’ll want to curl up with a book all evening.  I know it’s temporary.  It’s not like those unexpected reading slumps that have no explanation and no expiration date, when you wonder if you’ll ever enjoy reading again.  I want to read, but circumstances keep preventing me from it, and the more circumstances prevent me, the less motivated I am.

I love summer – I really do.  But… is it Labor Day yet?

Goooooood morning, friends.  How was everyone’s weekend?  Ours was busy – no surprise there, right?  On Saturday, the one thing I really wanted to do was hit the farmers’ market and stock up on fresh food.  Nugget agreed to be my date, but only if he could wear his dinosaur costume.  Some battles are not worth fighting, so off we went to the market, me in shorts and a t-shirt, and Nugget in a plush dino costume with a hood.  Sigh.  He got so much attention on the walk there and at the market itself, that I don’t think he’ll ever wear regular clothes again.  No sooner had we gotten our market haul unpacked than Peanut and I were out the door again for a(nother) Chuck E. Cheese birthday party.  I left Nugget, who was complaining about a tummyache, home on the couch with Dad, but ten minutes after Peanut and I had arrived at the party, I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned around to see the boys (and Nugget was still in the dinosaur costume).  It seems Nugget made a miraculous recovery, thanks to the power of Chuck.  We had a pretty nice time at the party; I learned from my past mistakes and brought a book for Rory Peanut to read, and I think knowing she had that option allowed her to play more freely.  All of the kids greeted each other as if it had been years instead of weeks since school ended, and the parents exclaimed over summer haircuts and missing teeth.

The rest of Saturday was spent doing chores around the house and running errands – pretty standard stuff.  We shipped our luggage back from Seattle and were planning to dedicate the weekend to washing our camping clothes and gear repeatedly, but the box hasn’t arrived yet, gulp.  I don’t want to think about what it’s going to smell like when it does show up (hopefully today).

On Sunday morning, Nugget asked to go to the zoo.  He’d just been there the previous week with his grandparents, and we were planning a relaxed, low-key neighborhood day, so we said no – at first.  Then the downward spiral began, and before long I found myself painting Nugget’s face like a triceratops while Steve ran around packing snacks and water for the zoo.  It happens.  (Peanut declined face paint this time, in case you thought I was a meanie who only painted one of my children’s faces.  There’s a sentence I never thought I’d write.)  After the zoo, we pounded a quick lunch and then hit the neighborhood pool, while the kids showed off their new tricks from summer swim lessons.  (Note to self: check the deadline for registering them for fall swim class.)  After the pool, we stopped at our next-door neighbors’ house to drip all over their furniture and ruin the kids’ dinner appetites with 4:30 p.m. ice cream.  Parents of the year!  I ended the weekend hunched over my laptop, pounding out the work that I didn’t get to earlier in the weekend.  And so begins another week.  I’m exhausted.

Reading.  I think I’m getting back into the groove a little bit, after not reading much on vacation.  (More to come on summer reading/slumping soon.)  Earlier in the week, upon returning from the Pacific Northwest, I finished up The Library Book – I’d left it home, even knowing it was going to be overdue back to the library, because I didn’t want to tote it along in the kayak or risk it getting lost in the adventure company’s van, and that was a good call, since everything in the kayak got at least a little clammy and salty, if not outright wet.  Anyway, The Library Book was wonderful and definitely lived up to the hype; I was sad to finish it.  Since I’d been on vacation, I didn’t have any other books checked out of the library (at the time – I did squeeze a library run into the weekend errands because y’all know I develop a twitch if I don’t have a stack checked out) so I finished off the one book I did read a bit on vacation – In Morocco, by Edith Wharton, via the kindle.  Finally, on Sunday – library stack notwithstanding – I turned to my own shelf (!!!) and grabbed Mrs. Dalloway, which I’ve been meaning to read for years and which is on my Classics Club list.  Since I had to work on Sunday evening, I didn’t get the long lazy few hours curled up with a book and as a result I’m only about 30 pages in, but so far I love it.

Watching.  No TV or movies this week, but lots of watching.  I watched the kiddos run around with their friends at a birthday party and splash in the pool this weekend.  (My mom thinks they’re so good in the water that I could start bringing a book to the pool again – for the first time since having munchkins – but I’m an anxious type who can’t bring myself to look away from them for even a second.  Every time Nugget surfaced after going underwater, I asked him if he was okay and if he had swallowed anything.  I think by the end of the swim session, he was wishing I’d stayed home.)

Listening.  Back to podcasts!  I’m working my way through my backlog of episodes of The Crunchy Cocktail Hour right now.  Steve wishes I wouldn’t, because I came home with natural deodorant for him after my grocery run on Saturday afternoon.

Making.  Not much making, to be honest.  I’m trying to cook with more veggies – one bonus to my weird summer hours is that I’m home early enough to make family dinners.  So there’s been some vegetable stew-making and crudite-slicing.  Other than that, just puttering.  Refilling the bird feeders, tidying up the garden, chipping away at the basement purge – nothing particularly creative, though.

Moving.  A fair amount of moving, at least!  I squeezed in one weekday run after returning from vacation, and the vacation itself was very active with lots of hiking, walking, and paddling (pictures starting on Friday).  Plus the usual chasing the kids around, and Nugget invented a monster chase game in the pool – so I even squeezed in some actual swimming!  Hoping to find time to get back to the gym and do some strength training today.

Blogging.  Musing about reading in the Summer of No Metro on Wednesday, and – hopefully, if I get my pictures uploaded in time – the first vacation recap on Friday.  Check in with me then!

Loving.  This is going to sound weird, but go with it.  On vacation, our kayaking guide was putting protein powder in his coffee every morning.  I thought to myself, that’s either disgusting or it’s brilliant, and I resolve to give it a try when I got home.  On Sunday, I dropped about a 3/4 scoop of Whole Foods’ coconut almond plant-based protein into my travel mug and sipped it while I was walking around the zoo, and verdict: it’s brilliant.  It’s like a delicious creamer, but with actual nutrition!  I usually drink my coffee black, and I don’t think I’d do this every day – in fact, I’m sipping black coffee as I write this post – but what an idea, right?!  I’m always looking for way to squeeze extra protein into my day, since I eat very few animal products.  I can’t believe I never thought of protein coffee.  So simple!

Asking.  What are you reading this week?