I’m ready for some summer. In a perfect world, this is what I will do everyday–after I swim in the lake, build sand castles on the beach, write a brilliant book proposal, play tag in the park, eat beautifully crafted picnic lunches, add mint to my cocktails, dig for bugs with the kids, make popsicles, mash up bright green pestos and curry pastes from my herb garden, walk the dogs, grill flank steak marinated in fresh herbs, watch the wisteria bloom, spray children with the garden hose, eat tomatoes and burrata, sip prosecco on the patio in the afternoon and try to tame the rapidly increasing tan I started in Baja, pictured here, last April. My favorite season is upon us. Three cheers for summer. Wishing you many a splendid hammock siesta.
Hard to believe this is where I was a week ago. 30 feet down in the Sea of Cortez literally swimming in my favorite color and streaming rays of sunlight. Today my cold little toes are tucked into wooly slippers beneath my desk. Also, I have the sniffles and the tip of my nose is an ice cube. It’s all got me contemplating the time-space continuum. Might I be able to beam myself–if only in consciousness–back to Baja for a quick hit of the sea, sky, mountains, desert, dear friends and vitamin D? All is as it should be but, as grateful as I dearly am both for the vacation we just enjoyed and for the totality of my life in Chicago, I’m missing the Baja love on this ultra chilly Cinco de Mayo.
I broke a mug this morning, and kind of a special one, a Christmas gift. So I decided to find deeper meaning in the mishap.
Seeing as how the phrase is still in tact, I’d say the universe is telling me I am indeed the world’s best mom (in this house), but I don’t need a mug to prove it.
Ah, isn’t that the way it is? I start getting showy offy and something breaks.
It was a nice title while it lasted.