A Summer of Sundays

It's not been a secret, my un-love affair with summer. I've made some pretty harsh, judgmental statements. But summer did its best to win me over at the beginning of September. I think she even forgave my brash, rude, petulance.

Visiting FloridaDad and SWEJudy the other week, each afternoon found us taking cover from the daily Central Florida summer storm. Only instead of abating after an hour or so, the rain kept coming. And coming.

But on my last night, a reprieve. Post-dinner cleanup found me grabbing my iPod and heading a block away to the beach as the sun was setting. I hit play on my "Summer of Sundays" playlist and set to strolling.

"& its you and me in the summertime
We'll be hand in hand down in the park
With a squeeze & a sigh & that twinkle in your eye
& all the sunshine banishes the dark"
- The Sundays, "Summertime"

The song ended as I kicked my flops under the sea grapes and set towards the water. Not many walkers that late. A few blokes casting. The lights of cruise boats twinkling off shore.

"well the heat was enormous
it fell like a gorgeous
blanket of indian clay
time drifting over us, stagnant like thunderclouds
pregnant and heavy with rain"
- Eddie From Ohio, "This My Town"

The breeze reminded me that the morning's showers had chased away the languor of humidity and stickiness of heat. My toes hit the edge of the perfect water, same temperature as the air. My cadence slowed to a surf strut.

"Maybe sometimes, we've got it wrong, but it's alright
The more things seem to change, the more they stay the same
Oh, don't you hesitate . . .
You're gonna find yourself somewhere, somehow."
- Corinne Bailey Rae, "Put Your Records On"

The lights inside the condos loomed brighter as I moseyed south. My pace quickened to a jaunt - almost a dance - as the next tune bubbled up.

"If everything is nothing, then are we anything?
Is it better to be better than to be anything?"
- Counting Crows, "Einstein On the Beach"

At least three times, I jumped up and down in the surf, once landing on a sand crab. Ouch! Out of breath, a respite as Herbie Hancock's "Cantaloupe Island" chilled me out.

I couldn't have timed the scoring better. As I saw the last glimpse of sun to the west, The Sundays returned with words to bid the day's glow adieu:

"The thought of heaven couldn't drag me from the path
When I'm wandering here alone
I climb higher move towards the fire.... so blaze sun
Watch until it dies slow falling from the sky
Pale fading sun"
- The Sundays, "Folk Song"

Have you ever cha cha'd to XTC in the surf? I recommend it.

"You play hard to get
'Cause you're teacher's pet
But when the boats have gone
We'll take a tumble excuse for a fumble"
- XTC, Grass

My only picnic of the summer was dining with PJamaMama on the lawn at the Atlanta Botanical Gardens for the Indigo Girls show. What a fine evening that was!

"and my family takes picnics to the park
on warm weather holidays
and we ask all the neighbors, and they invite all their friends in kind
and we all bring side dishes, and we form one big holiday buffet line"
- Eddie From Ohio, "I Don't Think I Know Me"

"Nightswimming, remembering that night
September's coming soon
I'm pining for the moon"
- R.E.M. "Nightswimming"



It struck me during this tune that I had not skinnydipped before. I turned around and realized the sun had fully set. I was halfway through my playlist, so I about faced and headed for home.

T.B.C.

Libra Horrorscope

The Swede. Pid. My younger Indiana cousin. Mander Man. Libra peeps, you're the horse's ass this month! Gotta dig out my Magic 8 Ball!

Shiver Me Timbers

Ahoy me hearties! Raise high yer noggin o' rum on this, International Talk Like a Pirate Day. Well gotten booty, ho!

Did you know that the most successful pirate EVER was a woman? A Chinese pirate married a prostitute in 1801, and she took over his bidness when he died in 1807, growing the operation to 1500 ships and 80,000 sailors. I'd say that makes Cheng I Sao the first female CEO. Granted amnesty by the government in 1810, she lived to be 69 and a great-grandmother. Read all about Cheng I Sao's bad self here.

As a little kid, I'd bop around the living floor when the Olympics came on, pretending to be a gymnast. Can't WAIT to bring back the let's pretend spirit tonight and strut about as a pirate wench, instead:

From a Telegraph article billed on Fark:

How to be a pirate girl

Wear a lot of bandanas. Especially ones with skull and crossbones designs and red and black ones. When not wearing a bandana, make your hair a bit messy. You can also use an eye patch. White, ivory, beige, cream and tan peasant shirts are great for the look. Skull t-shirts are also great. Plain black, white or beige shirts with cut-off sleeves are a great addition to your wardrobe. Brightly coloured long sleeve button ups are piratey. Just make sure they are loose, not stiff like a shirt a corporate executive might wear to the office. And make sure you leave all of it untucked but the very front, creating a sagging look (regardless of how it's finished) and unbutton the top few buttons.

How to talk like a pirate

Growl - and scowl often. Pirates don't use a cultured, elegant, smooth vocalization - they mutter and growl.

Gesture with your hands frequently. Don't forget that pirates do most of their talking on the deck of a ship - out on the ocean, where wind, waves, and bird calls make it tough to hear. Gesturing often gives you a sense of "being there."

Run words together. Saying, "The boys and I were out for a lovely day on the water today" sounds like something you'd overhear at a yacht club. Instead, try, "Me'n'these here scurvy scallywags drug our sorry keesters out t'th'ship'n'had us a grand great adventuaaarrr! We almost had t'keelhaul Mad Connie f'r gettin inter th' grog behind our backs!" Note that you should always endeavour to call the addressee by some insulting name, usually involving an animal. "Yer a scurvy bilge rat, ya pompous gasbag" or "Here's yer dinner, ya mangy cockroach." (source: wikiHow)

From Robert Balder's PartiallyClips.com

Good Words

From Hugh MacLeod's Gaping Void

From the season finale of "Heroes":

“. . . perhaps we’d be better off not looking at all. Not delving. Not yearning. But that’s not human nature. Not the human heart. And, it’s not why we’re here. Yet still we struggle to make a difference. To change the world. To dream of hope. Never knowing for certain who we will meet along the way. Who among the world of strangers will hold our hand. Touch our hearts. And share the pain of trying.”

“So much struggle for meaning. For purpose. And in the end, we find it only in each other. Our shared experience of the fantastic, and the mundane. The simple human need to find a kindred. To connect. And to know in our hearts that we are not alone.”

Personal Problems

I say Rat's phrase several times a day. I can't help it. People give me too much ammunition.

From Stephan Pastis' Pearls Before Swine

Blowing

Hmmm. Could this be why more of my peeps haven't been out to see us play?

From Natalie Dee

Meeting Strategy

This'll come in handy:

From Scott Adams' Dilbert.

Brefkast Yummies

Made broccoli and spinach quiches for frozen future brefkast offerings for my FloridaFolks, but my favorite consumption during the visit was french toast with bananas and blueberries, bacon, and homemade blueberry syrup, enjoyed on their lovely front patio. I've illusions of one day having a bed & breakfast - would this meal float your boat?

Sheena's Peaches

As previously attested, Sheena's Peaches are amazing. Lucious. Juicy. Rosemary softly permeating creamy vanilla goodness. I promised to do her peaches soon.

This week I walked the talk and did 'em not once, but twice (alas, not in Sheena's company). First as a test drive with my folks and then again when we dined with a friend in Viera. Lesson learned: use only ripe peaches, as the firm ones will blacken up before they get soft enough. 4 minutes each side at 400 degrees.

Yum.

Sheena's Rosemary Peaches

Getting Pruny

One of my favorite things to do when visiting FloridaDad and SWEJudy is bubblelicious lollygagging in the TajMahTub. FloridaDad carefully selected a bathing venue that would accommodate his 6'4" frame, and it handily fits my 34" legspan.

Filling the tub drains every drop in their hot water heater. I've enough bubble source for one more offering before heading home tomorrow. Summer's heat be damned, I don't pass up the TajMahTub!

Books and Lunches

For CarolinaMom:

For Coyote and PJamaMama:

From Tony Carrillo's F Minus.