Skip to main content

Summer Soulstice

By June 18, 2020July 11th, 2020Lifestyle

Don’t worry. I do know how to properly spell solstice, which I know is coming up because I received one of the best Mother’s Day gifts ever—The Old Farmer’s Almanac. But more on that, shortly.

Maybe it’s because I’ve been cooped up and antisocial for so long, that I have this compulsion to dance naked in the great outdoors at exactly 3:44 p.m. on June 20th, when the solstice begins here in Montana. It’s the official start of summer and the longest day of 2020, because the North Pole tilts toward the sun. I want to shoot out of the gate on this celebratory day, my toes tapping Mother Earth, flowers braided in my hair, a primal carpe diem scream escaping my lips. I want to dig deep into the roots of my soul and offer thanks for the sunshine, for birdsong, animal babies and good people. I want to rekindle hope for and faith in a kinder, more peaceful world.

But back to The Old Farmer’s Almanac. It’s a goldmine of information, a superabundance of factoids. If I ever get to play a board game with friends again (not six feet apart), I am going to astound everyone at Trivial Pursuit. For instance, do you know that an intact male donkey (burro, ass, longear—all the same animal) is called a Jack? And that a female is called a Jenny? And a castrated male a John? Hmmm…wonder if that has anything to do with the infamous Dear John letter? Indulge me for just a bit longer. If you crossbreed a male donkey with a mare horse you get a mule. But if you cross a female donkey with a horse stallion you get a hinny. And you can cross donkeys with zebras (Yes, why would you?) and get a zedonk. Who knew?

I also read in The Almanac all about pansies, “weird stuff about Canadian money,” the history of the game of horseshoes, and planting schedules favored by the moon. Oh, and a killer recipe for coconut cream pie. Even the ads are compelling. For just six dollars I can order an authentic Davis Hill Weather Stick. (Not sure how to use it. I wonder if it comes with instructions.) Starting at $37.95, plus shipping and handling, the Original All Wool Dry Mop could be mine…or yours, and of course there are a few not-so-discreet ads for items about which I won’t go into detail, but promise to assist with intimacy or the lack thereof.

My copy of The Old Farmer’s Almanac cost just $7.99. It was worth every penny. And now, I must prepare for my solstice escapade. And in the name of soul-stice kindness, I promise to wear some form of clothing—something flowy, diaphanous, and druid-like!

Won’t you join me?

Sign up to receive notifications of my blog posts by email!

8 Comments

  • Dwight Moberg says:

    June 20 marked a watershed day, a warm day on the University of Illinois campus when herself and myself graduated, that she got to pin golden bars on my shoulders as a new 2nd Lieutenant in the USAF, and that I got to meet the parents of the girl I would marry in less than a year. Diaphanous gowns were not worn for the occasion, but some young ladies (I was told) wore shorts under their black robes. At the conclusion of the ceremony, there was indeed a primal scream of joy from all the graduates (and caps tossed into the air) as well as a long sigh of relief from all parents attending. We all, indeed, did carpe that diem!

    P.S. Find out all about The Farmers Almanac and its founder, Robert B. Thomas at: https://www.almanac.com/webcam
    Their website even has webcams so that you can explore their facility, as well as many photos of flowers in the garden
    at their location in Dublin, New Hampshire.

    • heide says:

      I am so happy to know this–more reason to celebrate, knowing it was such a wonderful and historic day for two of my favorite people in the world. I just LOVE the almanac. Thanks for sending me more info on it. Love you, Heide

  • Nita Tracy says:

    Would love to join you. I’m suffering people withdrawals from being quarantined, much of it by choice. I miss the laughter, silliness and camaraderie of friends and the joy that comes from meeting strangers that spark my interest and make me smile. Dance in the sunshine barefoot with flowers in your hair and wear lots of sunscreen if you do it nekked. 😘

    • heide says:

      I think one of the detriments of Covid (there are many) is the lack of celebration…so off we go into the sunshine with flowers in our hair.

  • Shirley Pobur says:

    Oh, darn! Heide, I was going to take a picture of your first appearance! Hehe, Shirley

  • an ERWant woman who prefers to remain mostly anonymous says:

    Once upon a long, long time ago, on one-such celebratory early, early, early morning, I went swimming neggie-neke in Lake Erie.
    Perhaps the old Farmer’s Almanac makes mention of the puzzling fish kill that year …

Leave a Reply