It’s summer here in Idaho. Finally. We were wearing sweaters and drinking hot chocolate on the last day of school, so summer, even in its 60 degree incarnation, is quite welcome. As I write this two of my children are feeding the ducks of the neighborhood pond (causing duck fights, no doubt) and the third is hopping happily on the neighbor’s trampoline. Excuse me while I go retrieve her.

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I’m back. Usually surrounded by the neighborhood crew, she was alone, for once, jumping in her long Sunday church dress with her Easter sandals nicely tucked under her tricycle, which also served as her stepladder onto the trampoline. Time to come home. Time to get out of the mild Idaho sun.

When we first moved here, everyone asked us how we were enjoying the weather, “Big difference, huh?” they’d say. And we’d agree. But the biggest difference between South Texas and North Idaho has nothing to do with the pretty fall colors or lovely white winters. It’s summer that’s so mind- blowingly different. My childhood Texas summers are clouded with memories of cold, cold air conditioning and the cartoons on the USA network, at least during the summers we had cable. Outside games, when tolerable, were played in the evenings, if at all. If you were lucky enough to get to a pool, you were blessed. The rest of us just cowered under our window units or central air and kept our shades pulled tight and screamed at whoever was stupid enough to open the door and let the air out.

My last summer at home before marrying Will was spent without central air. It was easily the most miserable summer of my life. It was sticky, Africa hot. The one window unit was in the living room, and if I wanted to sleep privately or speak with my hot, but not literally hot boyfriend named Will without siblings dangling on me, I had to suffer it out in the airless back bedroom. Miserable. So, let me tell you, dear reader, wherever you are, I don’t take these lovely North Idaho summer days for granted. The mere fact that one may walk three times around the neighborhood without having a dropping dead heat stroke is a gift, A GIFT I TELL YOU. And we don’t take it lightly.

Here are a few of summery type pictures, taken over the last few days. More will come. There’s much, much more to do before fall rolls around again.