This year’s summer solstice is at 9:42 p.m. Central time on Friday, June 20, 2025.
The dogs woke me at 3:45 Monday morning to do their outdoor business, and the sky was already showing hints of dawn, and I was surprised and joyful when I realized it wasn’t even 4 a.m. yet.
I love spring and early summer best because that’s when we get the longest days of the year. To see the world without the aid of artificial light is one of life’s greatest blessings.
I sit with pen in hand trying to think of more to say, but that’s all I have on that subject today. Rather than add superfluous words, I’m just going to look around and enjoy.
I hereby declare The Summer of No Beer — no beer until I lose at least 10 pounds or Leinenkugel’s Oktoberfest arrives, whichever comes first.
Since I graduated from college — actually since about 30 years ago — I gained almost 80 pounds. A couple of years ago I managed to drop down to about plus-40, but I gained 20 or so back.
A couple of months ago I started tracking my meals and weight on an app, but after some minor initial success the effort stalled.
Among other changes I switched to a well-known low-carb, low-calorie beer, but it didn’t help significantly. So when I ran out of beer Sunday night, I made a vow not to restock the fridge. I’ve been hovering around plus-60 for most of 2025, so I decided to forget the beer until I reach plus-50 or until this year’s batch of Oktoberfest hits the shelves, whichever comes first.
The crazy ultimate goal is plus-15. My knees hurt and I have some other medical issues, and I suspect the issues have much to do with the extra dead weight I have been asking my earthly vessel to carry around for a few decades, so I’d like to get down to plus-15 to see if that addresses the medical needs.
I’m making this declaration in a blog post so I have some accountability. I would like to be able to report progress when people ask, “How’s the Summer of No Beer going?”
I love Leinenkugel’s Oktoberfest and Märzen beer in general. It usually appears for three months a year starting around Aug. 1. I chose the timing of this goal because it’s easily doable in six weeks if I take it seriously, and my knees are saying it’s long past time to be serious about this.
A long-term goal might be to eschew beer altogether except during the Märzen season. Treating beer as a seasonal treat like garden tomatoes might be my wisest course of action.
I sit down without a clue about what I’m going to write, to see what happens. It’s a little exercise I call “Write Anything Until You Write Something,” and someday — someday soon? — I’m going to put out a book with that title.
I take a swig of coffee, and while my head is raised, my eyes rest on A Sand County Almanac in a pile of books near the ceiling.
A friend’s father gave me that book more than 50 years ago and told me to read it when I was ready, then pass it along. I still haven’t read it, even when I was surprised to find my life had taken me to that part of the country that the author was writing about and where he is a legend for writing this book. Aldo Leopold is universally acclaimed, but nowhere more so than in Wisconsin.
I think I will take that book off the shelf and see if I’m finally ready. The man who gave me the book was just the first of many who have commended it to me over the years, and so I fully expect to be enchanted.
One book I adored, and which inexplicably is hard to find and out of print, is The Clearing by Jens Jensen. You would think a book after which a wonderful educational institution is named would be readily accessible, but I have never seen it in the wild for a price I can afford. A friend loaned it to me and I devoured it. I hope someday to read it again, and more, I hope I can someday obtain my own copy to read over and over again.
