Can you believe it's summer already? It only seems like yesterday that the sky turned a weird shade of orange, a forewarning, in hindsight, of what was going to unfold in the year that followed.
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It's been a year like no other and we'll all be glad to see the back of it.
And for me, that's what summer is all about. For as much as I love winter, a chance to hibernate in both the literal and figurative sense, summer has come to mean something of a cleansing time.
I think that's where 2020 started badly. As fires ravaged the coast, most of us were unable to escape to our beloved beaches.
We realise now how pathetic we were, moaning about not being able to get fish and chips from Sandy Foot Cafe in Malua while people huddled on the beaches in the dark and watched part of their towns burn.
But we all need to escape. Lockdown made that even more obvious. We need to leave our homes occasionally, our comfort zones, again literally and figuratively, or we will go a little stir crazy.
I don't have any plans this summer, save a week at the coast where I've booked a house that looked a little dodgy but was close to the beach. I pray this year I can get there.
I have time off. Much needed time off. I need to escape. Even if it's only to the comfort of my garden to read a book, to marvel how well my corn is growing.
Corn! Let me tell you about my corn - the vegetable of summer in my mind.
I've only got a tiny little courtyard garden, but it's spectacular, thanks to Foxy's Landscaping (gratuitous plug).
I've become one of those people who poke around at garden centres wondering what crop I might plant next and this day I saw a little punnet of corn seedlings.
Now, in his later years, my father become something of a corn whisperer.
He turned parts of our backyard, which had been barren for as long as I can remember as a child, into what seemed like acres of luscious corn stalks, vibrant green, delivering golden yellow cobs like the golden goose.
Anyway this day I was missing dad so I thought the old bloke might like it, up in heaven, if I give corn a go. I did it for something of a laugh.
Look dad, I'm growing corn! But it's taken off. Here's hoping I have his same golden touch.
Now where was I ... summer plans.
I plan to read a lot. All this extra time we've had during COVID well spent reading. Not. Here's a few things on my list. The Mother Fault by Kate Mildenhall, Sally Hepworth's The Good Sister, The Last Migration by Charlotte McConaghy.
This last one I can't wait to read, a debut novel set on the brink of catastrophe as a young woman chases the world's last birds - and her last chance for redemption. It seems like the perfect novel to see out 2020.
Summer is the best time for reading. As long languid days stretch out in front of you, without the nine to five calling, there's no point feeling guilty about hours spent with a book. Just enjoy it.
I also want to up my salad game. Find salads that are a meal. Ones that might last in the fridge for a few days that would make an easy lunch option. Ones that move beyond lettuce - my own lettuce have not been as enthusiastic as my corn - some cherry tomatoes and a bit of raw capsicum does not a salad make.
There'll be more cooking, there always is when there's more time. One of the pitfalls of living solo is that while you become quite adept at cooking - I mean you have to do it every night or you don't eat - you lose some skill at cooking for more people.
Summer presents that opportunity to have friends over, or to be invited to gatherings where everyone is encouraged to bring a plate.
Alice Zaslavsky's In Praise of Veg will stay on the kitchen bench, as will Use It All from the Cornersmith gang. Nigella's Cook, Eat, Repeat will probably never leave my bedside table.
And I will escape. There'll be walks, and swims, and road trips. There a few new spots on the list this year.
Day trips and perhaps a few over nighters.
To the bush, but mainly the beach. I love a windy road, or a path to follow, lured by the sound of the waves.
Who's coming?