When You Hear The Ice Cream Truck You Know It's Summer

It's summer. The girl is still in school for another week or so, but it sure feels like summer. The ice cream truck makes its daily rounds through the neighborhood, singing its little song. It's light until almost 8:30. We went over to play tennis at the school courts last night and all the ball fields over there were swarming with small ball players and their families. The porta potty's scent was raging.
Yesterday morning I went over to volunteer at the school. The Dover Militia was set up out in the field teaching the fourth graders about life in colonial times. There was a doctor who explained how he used to treat men on the battlefield. He showed us his bone saw and the knife he used for amputations. There was also a man who showed the various flags that were used in battle, two women who demonstrated the musical instruments people used to play, another woman who talked about the work the women and children did and the big finale was the lighting of a big, old cannon by various students and a couple of teachers. My job was to help set up and then put away the food in the hospitality room. That was easy and it was fun talking with the militia folks, the kids and teachers and the other parents who were there helping out.