Boys in the pool yell, shout, splash and belly flop. Monday night we had 15 in there at once.
Crickets. My favorite summer sound. Their constant chirp is so friendly.
The heavy earth-moving machinery behind us is not so friendly. Crashing, grinding, growling, slamming, dumping all day long, all week long. About 60 acres behind our property is getting made over from cropland to wetland as part of a wetland mitigation project. I've never seen such PILES of dirt--imagine 60 acres--the fill they're moving and bringing in all day long. The HUGE bridge they made over our creek to get their mega-trucks over. It's jaw dropping. I should take pictures over the weekend when the workers aren't there.
The wind rifling through the dry, dry leaves.
The chafing, crisp sound of our feet crossing the burnt-out lawn.
The buzz, constant buzz of wasps. Such a year for wasps and yellow jackets, hornets and bees.
TB (AKA Tall Boy--the summer help) and I taking out a fresh batch of wasps' nests, armed with long sticks and cans of wasp killer. We sound like one of those shows on Animal Planet. "Did you get that one?" "Whoa! Look out!" "That was close!" "I got it! I got it!" "Okay, you get that one over there, I'll cover you." "Just try and poke it and then we'll nail it with the spray." "That was close. There's another one right there."
(Punctuated by the occasional, "Mr. G! I said to stay by the house until we kill them all!") TB and I deliver the same dialogue as Turtleman without any rehearsal. It's all real drama, going down all over the property as we discover new nests.
The thump of baseball hitting the palm of a leather glove. The sweet ping of an aluminum bat connecting with the sweet spot of a ball.
Crack-bam! Crack-bam! Crack-bam! Another Nerf skirmish ensues and foam bullets soar past my head.