Unofficially, summer the greatest season

As strange as it seems, it is still about 9 days before summer is officially here.

Of course, we all know summer is already upon us. School is out, the weather is warm, the mosquitoes are coming out in full force, and cookout season is going full blast. In other words, from a practical standpoint, summer has completely arrived. Though from a technical view, it’s still a few days away.

That concept was lost on soon-to-be 7-year-old Drew Sunday afternoon. Apparently, the difference between “practical” and “technical” is still too far off of a concept for the second-grade sect. Drew, whose birthday is June 18, was disappointed to learn that, technically, he has a spring birthday. I explained that in every other sense of the season, his birthday is, indeed, in the summer. But he was slow to grasp my exact meaning.

With every other member of our immediately family having a true “summer” birthday (June 27, July 23 and Aug. 9), I guess he didn’t want to be the odd man out. I suppose he’ll get over it someday.

And honestly, as far as I'm concerned, we can throw technicalities out the window and simply declare it summer right now. There's no sense it waiting to begin celebrating the best season of the year.

Summer has been my favorite season for as long as I can remember. Other seasons have their moments, such as the changing leaves and football season of fall; and the new growth and warm-up of spring. (There are no redeeming qualities for winter, mind you.)

But nothing compares with the pure joy of summer. Indeed, many of my favorite childhood memories are connected with summer.

There's the camping trips we used to take in our family's little Shasta travel-trailer. We'd haul it out to places like Yellow River or Lake MacBride, and spend weekends hanging out in the woods and sitting around the campfire. There would be Chinese lanterns hanging around the campground, and coolers stocked with wild cherry and grape soda.

There's the Fourth of July. We'd pile in the family station wagon, and sit in the parking lot at the All-Iowa Fair. Mom and Dad would spread a blanket on the roof of the car, and my sister and I would play with sparklers while we waited for the stock car races to end and the fireworks to begin.

Summer was a time for vacations. I remember trips to Fifth Crow Wing in Minnesota, where we would live for a week in a little cabin and spend our evenings angling for bluegill and sunfish. I remember the year when we drove across two states to visit the Black Hills of South Dakota, seeing everything from Mount Rushmore to Wall Drug to the Corn Palace of Mitchell, S.D. There was the year we went to Chicago — the first time I ever saw skyscrapers. We were awestruck at the view from the Sears Tower and amazed at the traffic in and out of O'Hare.

I remember eating burgers Mom would grill on our little Weber charcoal grill. I remember afternoons spent snapping green beans grown from our own backyard garden. I remember late-night runs to Dairy Queen.

But some of the best times were spent doing next to nothing — just sitting on the swing on our front porch and watching our neighborhood bask in its summer glory.

I hope my own kids will one day have just as fond memories of summer. We've been doing what we can to savor this special season. Just last weekend, we saw the Redbirds play (the kids even got to parade around the field via "Blytheville Baseball/Softball Boosters Night at the Ball Park.") In a few weeks, we hope to take a little vacation. We even camped out in the back yard a couple of weekends ago.

So even though it's not even officially summer yet, we're doing what we can to make it memorable. You have to, really. The worst part of summer is that it will go by in a flash. We're tying to savor it while we can.