midnight madness

K and M burst in the front door to find me with M, mid-meeting, all things Martha Stewart spilling out onto the table. Minutes later, (minus M) the Bryan Ave ladies were on a midnight quest, with no particular task at hand except to time our walk from Bryan to the "Junction." For all intents and purposes, it was our first midnight outing of the summer. K's camera at the ready, we took more pictures than planned, but how could we not when there's a giant statue atop a pile of granite boulders begging to be scaled by flip-flopped feet?
We've grown quite accustom to our triumvirate - finishing each other's sentences (or at least interrupting at proper intervals). We justify midnight sugary snacks and later-than-usual bedtimes for the sake of togetherness. We know each other's routines (or lack thereof, in some cases. Well, in one case) and laugh at our "quotes of the week" as I run from the basement to scribble them on the chalkboard.
We arrived home with a fews things accomplished: several talking pictures, stubbed toes, slightly bruised egos after being snubbed by P (he'll pay for it later) and the hours of the Snow Shak filed away in our heads. Who knew there was so much to explore just blocks from our abode? We've got the whole outing documented, including some new priceless quotes for the chalkboard. Kas, you're the most beautiful butterfly I've ever seen. Mare thanks for the company in the jungle. Also, maybe you should re-think the whole "handle"- contact habit. Just a thought.

lessons learned

A few things I learned this week:
1. Life ain't no beach.
I wish I had a dollar for every time I almost started to unpack. Then I could pay someone to do it for me. I keep looking at my suitcase full of my swimsuit and my flip flops and shorts hoping to hold onto the fact that a week ago I was in 85 degree weather, the sea breeze blowing through my hair. Instead, I kicked the heater on this morning while I got ready.

2. The phrase "The last resort," doesn't mean twice a day.
This morning I woke up at 5 a.m. with chest pains. No, it wasn't a heart attack. And no, I am not dying. It's just heartburn. To the Nth degree. So, scratch the "just." I popped a Prilosec (Thank you Grandma H. and Costco) and went back to bed. I woke up with only the slightest bit of relief and poured myself a bowl of grape nuts. Two hours later, I burst into the back door, gripping the counters as my heels scuffed the tile floor. I made my way over to the cupboard door and swung it open. Ahh. Arm and Hammer. Dr. Steve (neighbor and wise physician) showed me a trick; a last resort trick. I combined 1 cup water with 1 tsp. baking soda and placed it in the microwave for 40 seconds. Happy Hour drink downed, I grabbed a plastic baggie out of the drawer and put a handful of Rice Works Salsa Fresca brown rice crisps in a bag for the road. WHAT ON EARTH WAS I THINKING?! Salsa Fresca?! Those chips were Murder with a capital "M" on my esophagus! Two hours after the Salsa Fresca chip episode, I repeated Dr. Steve's strategy. With a bag of Salsa Fresca chips on the top of the fridge for all to share, I'm now fettered to eat bran flakes (or something equally as bland) for the rest of the week.
I guess that's all.
3. I need to get out more.

june bug

It's official: with fans full blast, windows wide open and sunshine that lasts well into the evening, June is officially here. I grabbed a great read (an extra long one, too) and headed out onto the lawn after dinner on Sunday. I read until the last shadow danced across my fingers and I could no longer see the words on the page. What better way to begin the season - the light cushion of green grass, a new story full of new characters, fast becoming dear friends, and the feeling that the warmth of summer is here to stay.

In summer, the song sings itself.
{William Carlos Williams}

To see the Summer Sky
Is Poetry, though never in a Book it lie -
True Poems flee.
{Emily Dickinson}

The summer night is like a perfection of thought.
{Wallace Stevens}

Deep summer is when laziness finds respectability.
{Sam Keen}

Summer afternoon - summer afternoon;
To me those have always been the two
most beautiful words in the English language.
{Henry James}