I love summer. I love the heat. I love the sun. I love the colors. I love the food.
There’s nothing like grabbing a perfectly ripe peach or plum and sinking your teeth into it.
I love sitting outside with a glass of iced tea and reading.
I enjoy my flowers.
My happy Buddha plays hide & seek.
Summer: I am going to miss you.
Back in June my mom took a bad spill and broke her ankle in three places. She was wheelchair-bound for several weeks. No weight at all on that ankle. She is not a young woman. My dad is not a young man, and while he could do a lot of caretaking she needed, he couldn’t do all.
So my brother called their house of worship and made arrangements for meals to be delivered twice a week. My folks eat like birds, so these meals lasted several days (and we froze portions, too). My sibs and I, along with my children, nieces, and nephew, started a Parent Patrol, and took turns going to my folks house every day to make sure they had a hot meal and everything was okay (my dad really can’t manage hot meals, but he can do cereal and sandwiches). One or more persons was on hand every single day to feed them and clean up afterward, plus deal with other stuff, if only to keep Mom company while Dad puttered around outdoors.
Whenever I was there and the meals were delivered, my parents’ friends continually commented on how wonderful it was that we were all taking care of our parents. Which confused me. I mean, what were we supposed to do? Put rocks in their pockets and toss them in the creek?
I was at a drive-thru window getting breakfast one morning and didn’t understand a word the cashier said to me. Not. One. Word. I periodically have this problem with my 20-something children and a couple of 30-something co-workers. They speak too quickly and don’t enunciate.
I couldn’t help but think of Linda Howard’s Killing Time, in which an FBI agent from the futures comes to the present to solve a crime. Part of the future world Howard created included people speaking much faster than they do now.
This past winter, I (re)read JD Robb‘s “In Death” series from beginning to newest release. Naked Death came out in 1995. Robb set her series in the not-terribly distant future-2058.
One thing that struck me with the re-reading was how of the technology she created for her books has come to pass. Palm Link anyone? Try your smart phone. We didn’t have those in 1995.
Can the Urban Wars be far behind?
Yes, I am one of those women who carries a summer purse–i.e. a different purse in the summer than I carry the other three seasons.
I’ve had this purse for about 8 years. I absolutely love it. The sun hat (you can see the brim lower right) is made of the same material, which actually has a very high paper content.
One of the things I love about this bag is the detachable cross body strap, which comes in so handy when I’m grocery shopping.
It doesn’t “organize” internally as well as my other seasons bag. Oh, and my new glasses came with much larger cases, which I’m not sure I can correct.
I used to go to the Urban Dictionary all the time to make sure I was using modern/current language properly.
Until I looked up “mansplain.”
Nothing like mansplainers mainplaining mansplain. And getting it wrong to boot.
There are two things I will not tolerate on my social media: