Modern Living

My home was built in 1985 with no regard to cross breeze; it had central a/c from the get-go. Very early on, we found that the days when open windows create an ideal climate are rare, and there have been many summers in the last 15 when the house has stayed closed up from June to October.

Oh, air conditioning can be seductive all right: its promise of complete climate control and the undeniable relief of entering an artificially cooled place on the hottest of days draws us to the thermostat. Some days it's not even the heat, it's the humidity-- when the bills start curling up on my desk, I'm inclined to close the windows and crank the a/c.

When I was a child air conditioning was rare. In the hot hot heart of summer we sat around with windows opened wide and all manner of box fans blowing. When the heat was at its worst, we were advised to take a shower and go to bed wet so we could fall sleep.

None of that seems like a hardship, even now. These last few days have been both cool and dry, and even in this ill-designed house open windows have regulated our days perfectly. This morning I heard on the radio that a front would be passing through bringing along with it warmer and more humid air. I believe I felt the change in the weather when I came downstairs. Things were just a little stickier, and there was a scent in the air of green things growing in moist soil that transported me back to those days when every morning felt like this morning.

Who needs air conditioning? I thought, until my downstairs neighbor grabbed her cell phone and cigarettes and camped out below my living room windows. I'm sure we'll open them again soon...

The Piper

It wasn't a peck, but I did pickle a pint of peppers I picked from my petite pepper patch this morning.

A Breather

As I write, all the windows are wide open and we are enjoying a cool evening breeze. This is our second break this week in the typical July heat and humidity. I'm headed out to the deck with a glass of wine and a little Wagon Wheel playing.

Who can say much more than, Aaaaaaaah?

And so We Beat On

On our way to drop Sonic off at his family's home pending their return from Charlottesville, we noticed that The Great Gatsby was playing any minute at the theater we passed. "Want to go see it?" I asked Heidi.

She shrugged. "Sure."

And so we did.

Great movie! Personally, I love Baz Luhrmann and this Gatsby did two things really well:  it, #1, made Daisy a pretty sympathetic character, and by doing so, it, #2, made me actually believe in the green light. Despite knowing the outcome, I was like, Yeah, Jay, this could totally work out!

Identical Cousins?

It seems like forever that I've known that eggplant and tomatoes are related. Both are members of the night shade family, which also contains peppers, potatoes, tobacco, and bella donna. Besides recognizing that the food members of this botanical group pair well, I never gave it much thought, particularly in terms of appearance.

Until today. Summer has delivered a bounty of all things night shade and I am serving them up-- raw, roasted, fried, etc., it's not dinner without one of them. And so tonight I prepared these:

Now... which fruit of the night shade family might this be?

B.I.N.G.O

This morning in Hershey we played a version of BINGO with Josh's younger brother and sister, Jonah, 5, and Evie, 7. It had colorful cards with pictures for the non-readers among us and a nifty plastic dealer that spit out two plastic chips at a time with images corresponding to the cards. The object was to be the first to call out the chip you needed and then mark off that space on your card with it. There were many duplicate images, and as we played, there were some hard feelings especially when one child beat the other to the call.

Oh we played through it, using the game as an opportunity to model and discuss good sportsmanship, (we ARE teachers, after all!), but even so, some of the fun was gone. After several rounds, I volunteered to clean up. Restoring the chips to the dealing device I did so deliberately, pairing up all the images so that they would appear two at a time. Two kites, two smiles, two trees, two cats, two houses, I laughed as I imagined the next game-- would there be more harmony? confusion? delight?-- and then I slid the lid on the box and put it away.

Pick Me Up

Once, when Josh was little, we drove up to visit him and his mom. He was excited to see us, and even more excited to show us his new stuffed hamster. As he cuddled it proudly, I heard a rustling in the corner. "What's that?" I asked.

"That's my other hamster," Josh said. He shook his head sadly. "He's not a holdin' hamster."

"He bites," explained Michelle, Josh's mom. "So I got him a hamster he could hold."

Today, we drove the now 17-year-old Josh home after a week-long visit with us. Michelle had thoughtfully prepared some vegan blueberry muffins for Heidi. "Try one," she offered, "they have oatmeal, flax seed, chia seed, and chai tea."

It was delicious-- warm and cinnamony, and the texture was super-dense and moist. I like these," I said, they're kind of like portable oatmeal." 

A little while later Josh came in the kitchen. "What's this?" he asked.

"You'll love it!" I promised. "It's holdin' oatmeal."