Lavender Lining

As a last day of summer hurrah, my cousin treated the three teachers in her life, Heidi, Emily, and me, to lunch on the town. The meal started nicely with calamari and fried green tomatoes with pimento cheese and tomato jam for the table. They were yummy, and I was gratified that everyone (but me!) agreed that my tomato jam was better than theirs.

When the mains were served, it took me a few bites to recognize that my grilled fish tacos were actually burned beyond tasting good, and so I flagged the waiter and asked him to take them back to the kitchen and let them know, which he did, graciously. I chose not to reorder or order another dish, which worked out for me, as dessert was next, and the restaurant is known for its milkshakes.

I don't usually order a sweet after a meal, but after sending my lunch back, I figured I had something coming. Oh, there was blueberry pie with lemon curd and cheesecake on the table, but my lavender milkshake? Was better than them AND a million fish tacos!

I'm going to remember that.

Breaking Ice

The first meeting of the new school year started with... an ice breaker.

"Uncommon Commonalities" required random groups of 5 to trace one of our figures on a big piece of mural paper and identify at least 10 things we all had in common excluding school and the area we live in. As I lay down in a classic crime scene pose, I eyed the one guy in our group of otherwise 50-something white women and said, "You are going to make this tough!"

And he did! Where everyone else liked coffee, gardening, and probably pedicures, he wanted to know who watched what sports. Cooking? "I guess you have to eat, so, yeah," he shrugged.

Oh, he wasn't the only outlier, by any means. "What's your favorite color?" I asked him.

"Blue," he answered.

"Blue," said the next person.

"Blue or green," said the third.

"Blue!" said the fourth.

"What about you?" asked the guy.

I laughed. "Yellow," I answered.

And so it went until we agreed that we all liked to read, go to the beach, have pets, travel, and eat ice cream, chicken wings, and pizza. In addition, we all saw part of the eclipse, celebrate Christmas, and appreciate flexibility.

We listened as people from the other groups reported their commonalities. "We all go to church!" one of them told us, "And we love Jesus!" she finished.

The guy and I looked at each other. His eyes were wide. "That would have been a hard one to say no to!" he whispered. "Thank goodness I wasn't in that group."

Moonshadow

I'm not sure why I did not really engage with the great eclipse of '17. Perhaps it was the hype; I predicted it to be over-publicized and underwhelming, and I made no real plans for the afternoon. Still... there was something awfully alluring about the entire phenomena, and in the end I could not ignore it.

In fact, I dreamed about it last night. I was standing on the sidewalk of a small town, and across the street was an older man in a lawn chair explaining what an eclipse was. He was under the awning of an old-fashioned hardware shop, and as I listened to him, I noticed the reflection of the sun in the plate glass window of the store, and I watched the whole eclipse without any strain to my eyes.

So this afternoon when I found myself in the parking lot of a grocery store, I put on my polarized shades and looked for the reflection of the sun in the tinted windows of my car. It was not as clear as my dream, but when I squinted? I could see the shadow of the moon, and I was mesmerized. Fortunately for me, a young employee of the store was standing out front graciously offering to share his glasses with anyone who was interested in taking a peek.

Yeah. That was a waaaay better view.

RIP Joe Levitch

News today that Jerry Lewis has passed away at the age of 91. Wow. My wish is that he rest in peace, but my feelings about his career are a little more complex. I have to say that I never found his humor funny. It always seemed a little inappropriate to me, even as a child. The fools he played always seemed to me to smack of ridicule rather than self-deprecation; they were stupid, and we were meant to laugh at them rather than with them.

Then, the telethon. I confess that part of my dislike for the spectacle was the inconvenience of having every program on one of the only three channels we got preempted for the last day of summer. Even so, I was not a picky TV watcher in the least (Did I mention we only had three channels?!), and there was definitely something about the program that turned me off.

It might have just been the sweaty tuxedo and cigarette that Lewis sported with manic weariness in the waning hours of the show, or the cheesy giant thermometer that showed donations, or the boxy tiers of "operators" manning the phones under stark fluorescent light. It just didn't ring true to me, despite the kids in braces and wheelchairs who were always part of the spectacle.

Who knows? These ramblings are based on 45+ year-old-memories, but considering all the fond memories I have of my childhood? Jerry Lewis is not part of them.

Serendi-party!

"What are you guys doing the rest of the day?" my brother asked after we had met up at the dog park with the puppies and Sonic.

Emily and I had already been to the farmer's market while Heidi and Bill watched the dogs, and Lucy was pretty worn out, so our schedule was pretty wide open. Heidi and I looked at each other and shrugged. "No big plans," I said.

"Why don't you come over for dinner then?" he replied. "I'll make steak and tuna, and we'll have a good summer meal."

Um?

Hell yeah!

P.S. I'm bringing the tomato jam and corn ice cream!

Hmm-ing Bird

Just a moment ago I opened the sliding glass door and took a deep breath of warm, humid air. At the end of a passing thunder storm everything dripped, and so I did not step outside but rather surveyed the hanging baskets and planter boxes through the screen. Everything was flourishing.

To my right brilliant green wheat grass sprouted a couple of inches tall, planted for the cat we no longer have with us. Could there be a clearer sign that life goes on, I wondered, or is it just a patch of grass that nobody even wants?

The tiniest of chirp pierced my sadness. A hummingbird as gray as the sky sipped at the salvia in the hanging basket across the deck. I held my breath as she whirred to within inches of where I stood, and just above the cat grass paused at a striped yellow petunia and drank her fill of nectar and rain water before silently zipping away.

Highlight

We had about a half an hour before our movie started this afternoon, so Heidi, Josh, and I wandered down the plaza, grabbed a coffee and a lawn chair and played a quick game of giant connect-four in the breezy, sunshiny day.

I loved it!