If you’re interested in a healthy alternative to the usual cookies out there, stop by my post about eating healthy on the go with Newtons.
lantana in the planter
Speaking first of yesterday’s post, I thought of another analogy. If I see someone wearing clothes I do not like, whether it concerns the style, the color or the way they look on that someone, I do not walk up to them and tell them what I think about their attire. I keep my mouth shut. A) it’s none of my business, B) it’s hurtful. Same for walking into someone’s home and commenting on how much I dislike their style of decorating. Are you kidding me? I would never do that. If I was with someone who did comment in a negative way, rest assured, they would be on the receiving end of a little tongue lashing from me. I’m a Scorpio. Need I say more? (I’m speaking of criticism re: design, style, etc.)
Manners. Civility. Compassion. Thinking before you speak.
Qualities we should all strive for.
buds forming on the limelight hydrangea
The heat and humidity rages on here in the Northeast. I don’t remember, ever, humidity and heat continuing unabated for this long a period of time. Yes, we sometimes have 5 or 6 or 7 days of it, but then it breaks. Then we get several days of cooler, drier weather. Not this year. Part of the reason, but not all of it: the waters of the Atlantic Ocean are warmer than usual. I wonder why? (I’m saying that with tongue in cheek. I know why.)
With all due respect to those of you who do live in the South and love it, I’ve never wanted to live there for precisely this reason – I hate the combination of high heat and humidity. Yet, here I am living in New York state, engulfed in horrendous and, now, dangerous heat. And pity my poor husband, temporarily living in a dorm with no air conditioning. I feel stuck in the house, but at least I have air conditioning.
And then my thoughts turn to those who are homeless. I saw several in the immediate area surrounding our rehearsal space in Manhattan. How are they coping? I’m sure they are being transported to some sort of cooling shelter at night. That happens when the temperatures get dangerously high or low. I surely hope so.
So I complain, yes, but am immediately reminded that there are many, many people who are suffering much more than me.
another pretty daylily
I gave myself the day off yesterday, since I was so darned tired after the weekend. I was still clad in my pajamas at 2:00 pm. I did a little reading, filled the birdbath, watered the seedlings, caught up with family members, vacuumed and swiffered. Today I have to snatch a little time in the morning to do a bit of mowing. Yes, I will do it before it gets too hot. I promise. I have to do a little each day or I will never be able to keep on top of it. Then I’ll start in on Macbeth.
By the way, I’m really enjoying Louise Penny’s books. She was suggested to me by a reader of this blog and I am very grateful for the recommendation. What a wonderful writer! Her mysteries take place in a small town called Three Pines in Quebec. I’d like to live in that fictional, charming town. (Except for the long, long winters.) Penny has created a wonderful cast of characters, many of them appearing in all of the books in her series. If you haven’t read these books, I recommend them highly.
In less than two weeks I head to Hartford. Again. I’m grateful for the work and the lovely people who work there, but the thought of being away for an extended period of time is more than a little overwhelming. Several of you have mentioned taking Scout with me. If I did that, she’d be away from her home and Don. Much better to keep her in the place she knows and loves. I do think, however, that they might visit for a few days here and there. Remember, Scout loves that park. And the elevator. And adventure. Even at 14½ years of age.
I hope you are staying cool, wherever you are. Drink lots of water. Read a good book. Stand in front of the fan or the air conditioner. Have a glass of lemonade. Eat a strawberry shortcake ice cream pop, like I did. You’ll immediately be plunged into memories of the Good Humor man. Remember the little melody that emanated from the truck? That you could hear faintly and then, after you were sure you weren’t hearing things, you raced into the house and asked mom for money for the ice cream man. Then you lined up with a bunch of other neighborhood kids and bought a push-up or a creamsicle or a fudgesicle or a strawberry shortcake. Now, that’s a good memory of summer!