Quite Contrary

June 3

July 18

It's been a tough year in the garden: we were late getting it in; we were gone for two weeks; there was a derecho, and it's been very dry.

All in all, I can't complain. Although there aren't silver bells and cockle shells, there are pretty tomatoes all in a row.

The Soul of a Chef

When people find out that I used to work as a chef, they often ask what my specialty was. It's a question that stumps me, because any chef will tell you that their specialty is the dish the last diner loved. 

Even so, on the path to find the perfect dish for someone else, you must pursue what you like as well. Most chefs will tell you that they started cooking because they wanted something to eat that they knew they couldn't get anywhere else. Mother Necessity exercises her considerable influence again.

Let me give you an example. A friend of mine posted this about her 4-year-old on fb today:

So Isaac just made himself a sandwich, but he needed help gathering ingredients. He said, "Mommy, I will need the ham. And peanut butter. And mayonnaise and jelly. And ketchup." 

I asked what flavor jelly? Cherry, peach or grape? 

He said, "Whichever one you think is the best for my sandwich." 

Raised eyebrows and knowing nods all around, right?

Almanac: July 16, 2012

96 degrees
8:32 sunset
7 swans a-swimming or 7, 7, I forget what 7 was for
6 AM flight for Mom
5:57 sunrise
4 birthdays-- Victor, Kyle, Tonya, and Unika
3 sixth grade teams-- Dolphins, Owls, and Stingrays
2 movies-- Beasts of the Southern Wild and Prometheus
1 waning crescent moon

Long Days of Summer

We were arriving home from a movie and dinner just a little while ago. The clouds were shreds of charcoal and violet against a periwinkle sky. A single star glimmered in the dusk. "9:15," Heidi noted, "and almost dark. The days are getting shorter." She sighed.

My mom nodded in agreement, but I shrugged. "What are you talking about?" I said. "Summer is hardly winding down."

Before they could object, I continued. "If you were seven and you had to go to bed when it was still light out at 7:30 in your underwear because it was too hot for pajamas, then you would know that July has verrry long days!"

I guess that was a formative experience.

Gracious Isabel

Here's another reason why our dog is great:

We got her a new bed today, a special Sealy posturepedic model for the aging pooch. (Ok, so it was a bit of a splurge, but her birthday is Tuesday. She'll be nine.) When we brought it home and showed her, she was polite enough to roll right on it and then lie down and stretch out with a comfortable sigh.

Now that's gratitude!

Happy Birthday Cupcake

 Tomorrow I'm going card shopping. From July 12 to July 17 we have seven birthdays.

I know that some people despise the greeting card industry. I get it-- set aside all those holidays they have ginned up for their own profit, there's a whole raft of people making their living by basically telling us what we are feeling so that we can send our sentiments to others without taking the time to write them ourselves. (Seriously--who has time for that, right?)

Oh, but I have a soft spot in my heart for the greeting card aisle. Sometimes, those hacks can really put their finger on some string of your relationship that you may or may not have overlooked. Who cares if they are sitting in a cubicle in Nebraska throwing wadded paper at each other? If it's funny, I laugh, and if it fits, I send it. Har, har, har.

Summer Time Zone

During the school year I find that I don't always sleep well. It's usually an early wake-up and trouble falling back to sleep-- too many things on my mind make it hard to drift back off. For a while I thought it might be my age; I took an herbal supplement, and I'd like to say it helped, but I'm not so sure.

We busted out of here the day after school ended to spend two weeks in Maine, and I forgot my supplement the whole time we were there. I also slept fine. Once we were back and there were a few things I needed to get up for, I woke up again in the middle of the night. Call me Sigmund, but that seems pretty psychological to me.

It makes me wonder about internal clocks and every day anxiety. Left to my own devices, I wake up between 7:30 and 8. I eat a few small meals throughout the day and am ready for dinner between 7:30 and 8 at night. It's easy to lose track of the time between the pool, the kitchen, the computer, and the conversation, but Heidi is often reminding me that we really have no deadlines. It takes a while, but I eventually relax.

That's cool, until I look up and it's almost midnight and I haven't posted my blog.

No worries. It's 11:11 somewhere.