Summertime, and the living is... hectic?!

I can remember a time when summers lasted forever. They were still too short, but the eight weeks or so that school was out of session actually seemed like eight weeks, not eight minutes.

Why is it that as we age, time seems to accelerate. Minutes, hours, days, then weeks, months, years and decades whiz by. I remember savouring each precious moment of bygone summers, but nowadays it seems that by the time I realize that it might be nice to go for a bike ride, a stroll in the park or a trip to the lake, it's too late. Temperatures have dropped, winds are blowing, and it's raining. No, not yet, but all too soon.

I recall riding my bicycle everywhere, playing baseball, reading oh-so-many books, drawing, swimming, going to camp, visiting relatives in Toronto, shooting my BB gun, making bows and arrows out of branches cut with my trusty hunting knife, and having fun. Lots of fun. And that was all before lunch, or at least it seemed like it. How did we cram so much into each day?

These days, time flies. I arrive at my office, do a few things and then it is time to go home. I love what I do, and enjoy myself, but I don't have the heady, exhilarating fun of yesteryear. Do we need to be young to really enjoy ourselves completely, without reservation?

I read about a study recently where it was claimed that people who had always been 'good' had more regrets about their past than did those who had been a bit naughty. I don't think the study was about axe-murderers, or serial rapists, just about people who had perhaps indulged in a vice or two compared to those who hadn't. I don't have a lot of regrets about my past, but as I get older I do think about places I could have gone, things I could have done, girls I could have..., well, since this is a family-rated blog, let's say 'kissed.'

It's not really a numbers game is it? Does the study suggest to us that if we indulged in carnal pursuits more often and with greater gusto, we might have fewer regrets and be happier in our later years? If so, is there a magic number? If anyone hasn't attained that number, should he or she set about righting the deficiency?

I don't know.

I have lived a full life, full of adventures both good and bad. I just wish time would slow down a bit so I could cram some more stuff into my life.

Am I the only one who thinks like this? I don't want to retire. I don't want to 'put my feet up.' I have far too much to do, too many more people to meet, too many schemes to dream up, too many more adventures to enjoy. So, what's stopping me?

Naps. Don't you just hate it when you sit down in your chair and wake up some time later without having done anything useful or exciting? That is, except for having the occasional dream, of course. What kind of dream? Oh, perhaps far away places with strange sounding names, and a girl or two from my youth that I might have gotten to know a little bit better.

No. Don't sit there and purse your lips and scold me under your breath. You know darn well that you do exactly the same thing, don't you?

Come on, admit it.