When I was a little girl I used to complain to my grandmother about the slow pace of my life. I was eager to grow up and see the world. She always replied that time goes faster as you grow older. It was a concept I could not comprehend at the time.

" T H E  B E S T  T H I N G
A B O U T  T H E  F U T U R E
I S  T H A T  I T  O N L Y
C O M E S  O N E  D A Y
A T  A  T I M E "
Abraham Lincoln



" L E T  Y O U R S E L F  B E
O P E N  A N D  L I F E
W I L L  B E  E A S I E R "
Buddha



" W H E N  W E  G E T  C A U G H T
U P  I N  T H E  B U S Y N E S S
O F  T H E  W O R L D
W E  L O S E  C O N N E C T I O N
W I T H  O N E  A N O T H E R
A N D  O U R S E L V E S "
Jack Kornfield



" I  M U S T  G O V E R N  T H E
C L O C K ,  N O T  B E
G O V E R N E D  B Y  I T "
Golda Meir



" S L O W  D O W N  A N D
E N J O Y  L I F E .
I T ' S  N O T  O N L Y  T H E
S C E N E R Y  Y O U  M I S S  B Y
G O I N G  T O O  F A S T ,
Y O U  A L S O  M I S S  T H E
S E N S E  O F  W H E R E  Y O U
A R E  G O I N G  A N D  W H Y "
Eddie Cantor




" R E M E M B E R  T H I S
V E R Y  L I T T L E  I S  N E E D E D
T O  M A K E  A  H A P P Y  L I F E "
Marcus Aurelius



" M A Y  Y O U  L I V E  A L L
T H E  D A Y S  O F
Y O U R  L I F E "
Jonathan Swift



" H O W  W E  S P E N D  O U R
D A Y S  I S  O F  C O U R S E
H O W  W E  S P E N D
O U R  L I V E S "
Annie Dillard

This year Gary and I have been complaining about the rapid passage of time. In particular we have whined about our fleeting summer. It seems that Grandma was right, time is going faster and there is definitely not enough of it.

Summers in Edmonton are brief but glorious. The brevity is counterbalanced by the long hours of daylight. Initially the long days took some adjustment. In our first year here I had offered some rhubarb plants to a colleague. I phoned one evening to say we would drop by with them. We loaded the kids in the car and headed off. We discovered that it was after 11:00 pm as our bleary-eyed and hastily dressed friends greeted us. My Kansas sense of time told me it was closer to nine o'clock.

My growing up summers were comprised of long days of play. The neighbourhood gang of kids were shooed out of their houses in the morning. We reappeared briefly for meals and occasional arbitration of a dispute. At the end of the day when it was getting too dark to play 'Kick the Can' our mothers called us in to wash up and get ready for bed.

Those long summer days were filled with activity, but never rushed. We had time to organize games and projects, to swim and ride our bikes. We played baseball in the Kerley's backyard. Sometimes Mrs. Fitch told ghost stories in her backyard. When the Boone girls came to visit their grandparents we played with our paper dolls on the front porch. We sat on the porch swing with our grandmother and watched the neighbourhood goings on. In those days time was luxurious.

Recently our grand girls and some neighbourhood kids were playing in our backyard. As they ran about giggling and squealing Gary built a fire in our fire pit. When the fire was "just right" the children gathered around to roast marshmallows. Finally we gathered up the sleepy children, wiped off the goo and tucked them into bed. It was a perfect evening.

The real reason for our discontent this summer has to do with over-scheduling our lives. We have committed ourselves to too much work this summer despite our promises not to. We are learning that we want to cherish every moment of our Edmonton summers. We need more fire pits, more just sitting, and more time to savour this lovely season. By taking time out to enjoy the season, we actually stretch the time.

I wish you long luxurious summer days. Enjoy them all.