There are some things that scream summer. The charity barbeque outside of a box store, for example. I was grocery shopping on Saturday, and stumbled across one of these lovely summertime traditions. And I chose to enjoy a hot dog and a pop in the parking lot, with my reusable grocery bags hanging off my wrist and the items on my list temporarily forgotten as I ate my surprise lunch. I got a smear of mustard on my sling bag. It was perfect.
One of the other summer traditions I see popping up regularly is the library’s summer reading program. Kids are encouraged to sign up at their local public library to track their reading. There are programs and games and prizes! It sounds delightful! I’m not a public librarian, so I don’t get to engage but maybe I’ll suggest we do our own academic version of it to the outreach librarian at work.
And the other thing: I do not remember participating in a summer reading program at the public library growing up.
This is weird! We went to the library a lot! My mom would round us up - my siblings, me, and any of the kids she was babysitting on that day - and we would hop on the city bus and go to the Moncton Public Library downtown (which remains, inexplicably, the only branch of New Brunswick Public Libraries in Moncton. There are three branches in Miramichi. I am begging someone to build a new branch in Moncton). We did loads of programs! My mom registered us for tons of crafts and games and parties - all of which were extremely fun! But I don’t remember a specific summer reading program. Did they exist then? Surely they did.
I suspect, after some time pondering this, my mom elected to not sign us up for the summer reading program as a whole for one very good reason: I would have always been the kid who read the most books and she was not going to be dealing with that, thank you. My parents encouraged reading in our house, we had tons of books, and it was the one thing I knew I could ask for and it would be granted. The book budget was generous in our working-class house. But I read a lot and very quickly, and my parents were weary of explaining it. They had tested me themselves and knew it to be true, they fielded incredulous conversations with teachers in my youth, and I think they wanted a reprieve from it in the summer. I was insatiable. I filled my mind and room with books. And in the summer, I was under no scrutiny.
If this was so, my parents were trying to quietly give me a gift of being able to read as I pleased on my own time, for at least part of the year.
This brings us to the present. I’m still on my journey of trying to capture the magic of a childhood summer (aside from the fact that I have to work. And like…maintain my life). Enter the notion of summer reading. I’ve done this a few years in a row. We used to open the summer with a big book order. We’d each pick five or six books at the bookstore - and later, once we got a computer with internet and my mom learned about online shopping, we’d order them online. I’ve done this in past summers, pull together a list and buy them. This year, instead of buying a new stack of books, I’m trying to finish ones I already have, and maybe reread some favourites I haven’t touched in a while, but do evoke the summer feeling. The feeling of time and sunshine and popsicles. The way sunscreen feels on my arm and the way my mom told me to wear a hat outside. The way a rainy day feels in the summer. Summer is here and I’m ready. Some libraries do formal adult summer reading programs now, playing into this nostalgia and longing for those unappreciated days.
However, I’m going to do it by myself. There are no prizes or programs (well, there might be. I have some craft miniatures to finish, and a cross-stitch to try). There will be no stickers. There might not even be any discussion. Because the magic of summer reading, at least in my humble opinion, comes from the long days of doing it. Sitting in the shade, under a tree. Swinging on a hammock. Lying on the beach. Summer reading used to come with a plastic cup of Scotsburn lemonade, now it might come with a beer or sparkling water. Not just because I’m an adult now, but because they don’t make Scotsburn lemonade anymore, and I no longer drive through Masstown, home of the recreation of those weird artificial sugar waters, as regularly anymore. It could include Kool-Aid, but the powder isn’t sold in Canada anymore, and so my satchets are precious. For extra-special summer reading, if you will. Summer reading is a mindset, not a specific kind of thing. It doesn’t matter what I read, though I typically like to read at least one book set in the summer time.
Summer reading is the feeling of being sun-soaked at the end of a day and your mind crammed with words. It’s the same kind of joy I got from my charity barbeque hot dog, it’s the same kind of joy I plan to get on Friday, when I hopefully journey to a beach and come home with more sand in my car. Summer reading is the act of reading, but specifically on my patio with the cat on a leash so she can wander around me.
You’re of course welcome to join me. Just know that we aren’t meeting, and yours might not look like mine. You don’t even need to count your books. Show up with the intent in your heart, wherever it feels like summer to you. I’ll see you there.
Oh Alison, this is beautiful! What a wonderful intention to set for your summer reading.
This line is sooooo lovely: " I got a smear of mustard on my sling bag. It was perfect."
😍
I know that the 'It was perfect' refers to everything that precedes it, not just the mustard, but I can't help but think that the Rebecca version of those last two sentences would be this:
"I got a smear of mustard on my sling bag. I went NUTS."
I always enjoy your writing, and this post is an utter delight. I'll be heading straight to my bookcase this evening to check out my own summer reading list!
Cheers to summer reading! Also, how does Saint John have FOUR libraries (counting KV) but Moncton just one?!