Inside Recess

When the day is hot and sticky
But you want to have some fun
And bowling is so last week
There’s still some place to run

Indoor mini golf!

Heidi and Annabelle and I went when we were in Atlanta, and at the time I made note of the fact that they had a location not too too far from our house. And so on Josh’s last day with us and in between running errands to prepare for our next road trip to NJ and Buffalo, we made our way to Monster Mini-golf, where all the clubs and balls and bumpers on the greens are fluorescent, and you play under black lights with retro music pounding too loud for you to have a normal conversation, but just the right volume to make you shake your bootie on every green while waiting for your turn to putt. This location also had duck pin bowling, a laser maze, and a neon color challenge that were included, along with 10 dollars worth of arcade games in our flat rate admission. And yes! I put the high score on the basketball game again, proving Atlanta was no fluke! It was cheesy fun at its finest, and gifting our tickets to a family of little boys on the way out the door, I laughed all the way into the muggy afternoon, where, yes, it had thunderstormed again. 

Microburst

Our street is like a river! the text from one of our neighbors read.

We looked around where we were, just 10 miles from home. It was 95 degrees, and the sun was unrelenting.

I know! I got drenched coming in from the car, and that was with a raincoat and umbrella! replied another neighbor.

There were a few clouds in the east, towards the direction of home.

The pavement was dry on the way back. A mile or so from our house we spotted a few small puddles, and the streets grew wetter as we approached home.

Here? The sun was out, but everything sparkled and steamed in the aftermath of what must have been an impressive storm.

Too

The day was too good to waste, and too hot to do much.
But we tried:
The path was too steep and too muddy to reach the river.
The town was too flooded to have much of anything open.
The park was too crowded to find parking.
The road home was too crowded to make good time.
But:
The company was too good to complain.
The dinner was too delicious not to enjoy.

Holiday

Before I even knew that there was a national day devoted to watermelon, much less that that day was this day, I stood in the kitchen this morning chopping up a small, round, dark green watermelon that came in our CSA box on Thursday. It was perfectly ripe-- crisp and sweet-- but unlike most of the melons we see these days, it was also full of tiny seeds.

Heidi was next to me, sampling the cubes as I cut. "This is a good, one!" she proclaimed, "Except for the seeds."

I shrugged in agreement. "But it's so old-fashioned," I said. "Remember when we were kids? watermelon always had lots of seeds."

"Right!" she nodded. "We always had to eat it outside."

"I know," I said, "like right after we went out to peel the corn? We ate watermelon."

"Yeah," she replied, "and we spit the seeds into the grass!"

We were silent for a moment, and then she continued, "And wished that watermelons would grow there!"

Yes. That's exactly how it was.

Happy National Watermelon Day!

Monsoon Season

The warm, damp air embraces you the moment you step through any door. Whether the sun is shining, illuminating the clouds, or completely obscured, you are cradled by moisture: wet grass, slick pavements and drips from every leaf. Everything is green, green, so green and smells metallic and earthy, like rain is coming, because it is. 

Plan B

Josh is feeling a little bit better and so we approached this day like a classic summer vacation day. We were on the third hole of the miniature golf course when the first peal of thunder rumbled but were able to play through to thirteen before the rain and lightning chased us off the course. Our fallback was bowling, and so we drove through the torrential storm to knock down a few pins on lane 29 and munch on cheese fries and zucchini sticks.

Once home, we churned our own versions of cereal milk ice cream: a taste test of Cap'n Crunch and Fruity Pebbles. Both versions were creamy and pleasantly off-sweet and slightly salty, and topped with their respective cereals, they were really quite delicious.

Next up? A movie on TV and maybe even a board game, because when summer gives you rain, she also gives you options.

Tour de Chef

Josh is here for a few days, and the other night we were flipping through Netflix and landed on a recent episode of Chef's Table. Each episode profiles a chef, focusing heavily on their artistry and origin story.

We started with the one about Christina Tosi, pastry chef and founder of Milk Bar. The three of us were captivated by her philosophy of food and cooking and charmed by her signature dishes of Crack Pie, Compost Cookies, and Cereal Milk soft serve ice cream.

"You know they have a Milk Bar at the Wharf," I told Heidi and Josh, and so a plan was hatched. We headed over there around 4 o'clock this afternoon, undaunted by rush hour. Once at the place, we ordered soft serve for there and one of everything to take home.

Sitting at the community table savoring the not-so-sweet and salty custard garnished liberally with crunchy cornflake brittle, I sighed. "This is amazing! We should go to every chef's restaurant after we watch the show!" I told Josh. "Who was the guy in episode 1?"

"Massimo somebody," he answered.

"Right!" I agreed and got to googling. "Here it is! Massimo Bottura. He has restaurants in... Modena, Italy. That's all." I shrugged. "Guess we better start packing!"