It's All True

Yesterday the official recorded temperature was 102°, the highest for that date in Seattle history.

I admit, that's a little hot.

Traditionally, homes in the Northwest don't have AC. It just isn't historically necessary. A few years ago The Spouse bought a window unit for our family room. I berated him soundly. What was he thinking, spending hundreds of dollars on something that would be used maybe MAYBE one or two days out of the year? Amortizing out the cost, however, proves it to be a wise decision. Not to mention that right now you can't lay your hands on any cooling unit in any home store in the area. Seriously. MAB just bought a unit that had come off the truck 15 minutes before and by the time they checked out the supply was depleted again.

And we have fans for the other rooms, which makes sleep possible, even when there is no air coming through the open windows.

The Dog has a big bowl of water. I feel bad leaving him shut up in the house each day until The Child returns from summer school. But he's coping in his own doggie way.

Also, I have increased my sandal wardrobe and yesterday bought some more flowy "Jai Ho" skirts to wear to work.

In the evenings we dine al fresco and then sit in the back garden until it is dark. Last night we ran the sprinkler and would occasionally douse ourselves. Who doesn't love a douse in a sprinkler?


Plus, heat greatly diminishes my appetite so I'm pretty sure that by the time this is all over I will have lost a few unnecessary pounds. That's not a bad thing.

The temps are going to start coming down. It's only supposed to get to 101° today. See how we adapt?

And adaptation is the bottom line. I was telling someone the other day that Seattleites need to learn how to drive in snow and function when it's hot. People in the Northwest are, I believe, complete and total weather wimps. We whine if it's too cold, we whine if it's too hot. And trust me, traditionally "too hot" is anything over 75°. And we make far, far too big a deal of the weather, even on an official basis. (Our weathermen and women are among the most hysterical (as in crazy raving over-reaction) around. "Snow in the forecast!!!!!! How will it affect your commute????????? Temperatures in the 100s!!!!!!!!!!! Arrrrggghhhh!!! We're all gonna die!!!!!!!!!!!!!!).

The way I see it our weather patterns very well may be changing and the best plan in my view is to accept the new normal and shut the H up. I'm quite sure that your personal body temperature increases several degrees with every complaint about the heat you make. And complaining distracts you from the blessings. Last night I was having (iced) cocktails with The Neighbor and a gorgeous cool breeze started to blow, rustling the leaves of her fruit trees in the most musical way and cooling our skin. I stopped and just paid attention to that breeze. It felt so very, very good. Without the heat I would have completely taken that breeze for granted and that would have been sad.

Now if you'll please excuse me, I'm going to go ice my feet.

Strategy for Today

Sit out in the cool of the morning being thankful - check
Sleeveless blouse & capris - check
Sunscreen that smells like bug spray - check
Ice & water in cute, eco-friendly metal water bottles - check
Hamburgers thawing in fridge for dinner - check
Extra water for the animals - check
Windows closed (unfortunate but necessary) - check
Fans off - check
Flip flops & toe ring - check (Note to self: get a pedi)
Air kisses to family because it is too hot to touch - check

Be cool, kids. Be cool.

Shade is Your Friend

It's very hot and dry in Seattle. We've had less than an inch of precipitation in the month of July. I don't think it rained much in June, either. Anyway, the temps are supposed to be in the 90s all week and the latest forecast suggests that it won't cool down (into the 70s) until next week.

Here's the thing. We had a dreadful winter. It was long and cold and wet and it snowed for 5 months. (It didn't snow for 5 months straight but we had snow at least one day every month for 5 months...which is way unusual. And of course, we're not forgetting that there was heavy snow in December, resulting in many event cancellations and a white Christmas). All people did for 5 months was complain about how miserable the weather was. And now they are complaining about the heat.

I kinda want to slap 'em.

If it was a typical Seattle summer right now, everyone would be all, "Damn, when are we going to get a break?" and "Just one day without rain, is that too much to ask?" and "I swear, I don't remember the last time I had a tomato ripen," and "Good thing I didn't put away the woolens this year".

Now I admit, it's certainly hot. On Saturday morning The Child and I were working in the front garden and it got so hot that we turned on the sprinkler and soaked ourselves as we worked. It was either that or heat stroke. But it was fun and it felt great and we got our project done. And then we pretty much laid around the rest of the day. (Laying around is a good strategy in the heat...works for The Dog and The Cat).

Come on, people! It's summer. It's supposed to be hot. How do you think iced tea got invented? Embrace it. Run in a sprinkler. Soak your feet in ice water. Drink a beer. Lie in the shade. Cook dinner outside. Seek out air conditioned restaurants and movie theaters. Hit the beach. Sleep on top of the blankies. Buy a fan. But for the love of God, stop complaining about sun in summer! It's going to be over all too soon and trust me, you're going to miss it when it's gone. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go find something sleeveless to wear to work.

Baby, It's Hot Outside

To think, just weeks ago there was virtually no sign that winter would ever end. For the last few days here it's been nothing but hot, hot, hot. Dine-al-fresco-hot. Sleep-on-top-of-the-blankies-hot. Tomato-plants-reaching-for-the-sky-hot. Make-a-note-to-lay-in-a-supply-of-summer-work-clothes hot. (Fortunately, on that count, MAB is very big on capris and walking shorts for summer office attire but I still need to punch up that bit of the closet).

No one I've talked to is willing to complain about it....winter was SOOOOOOOO long and SOOOOOOOOO dreary and we are all quite willing, it would appear, to suck it up now that the mercury is headed the other direction.

That said, there is nothing quite like the cool of a summer morning.

---

Time on the weekend has been at a premium lately and by the looks of the calendar, that will be a trend this summer. There is nothing on the books for this weekend and by gum, I'm keeping it that way. I may even do the grocery shopping after work tonight so as to not have to do so tomorrow. Yeah, that sounds like a plan (which will be executed if it is cooler than 90° today). And that whole not-doing-anything scenario puts me in mind of one of my favorite '80s songs (that I didn't discover until the '00s).

The Bangles "Going Down to Liverpool"

I've Been Reading

Nowadays it seems that most schools have some sort of required reading for their students during the summer. Which is a good thing, what with all the competing interests for their time and attention. I didn't need such assignments as a kid. I loved to read and besides, television only had 3 channels. All my summer afternoons of reading blend into one general memory of dappled light, drunk bees and being on a blanket under a tree with a book.


A lifetime of reading for pleasure has altered somewhat in recent years. I've grown undisciplined. I hear about books, make mental notes to a mental reading list but somehow the most I manage is going to bed with a book and falling asleep after reading maybe a page. Consequently, it takes me a year to get through one or two books, where I used to manage at least one a month.

(I sorta kinda blame blogs for this dip in my reading cycle, despite the fact that most of the blogs I read qualify as literature).

I promised myself to read more this year and have used these summer months to really commit. The available time is generally first thing in the morning. We've had a mostly sunny summer thus far and the cool, dewy early morning is the best part of the day. I sit in one of the decrepit Adirondack chairs with my coffee, dew on my feet and bumbles already busy in the lavender, and take an hour or so for a dip into a book.

The summer began with 2 absolutely delightful books: We've Always Had Paris...and Provence by Patricia and Walter Wells and My Life in France by Julia Child. The obvious delightfulness owes to both being about France and food. What I didn't entirely expect was the pleasure of the author's voices. The Wells' book was an interesting collaboration: his voice is that of a journalist, hers is like a girlfriend chatting over cocktails. And Child, well, her actual voice is so iconic - I heard her as I read her words. In both cases I also received the surprise of inspiration. Both Pat and Julia hit on their passion and subsequent life calling later in life. It made me hopeful, especially as I consider how to keep going with the writing thing even after I sell my soul to The Man.

Then I read The Pillars of the Earth by Ken Follett, a historical novel about building cathedrals. This is a best selling book by a best selling author and when I finished it my primary thought was "Really?"

The story was compelling enough; I finished the book, after all. There was one character I liked very much. But what kept me engaged was the expectation of more...a more that never really came. The prose was not devastating, there were no "golden lines" or deep insights. The characters were, in the main, uncomplicated...fundamentally good or fundamentally evil and not much in between. It wasn't horrible, it just wasn't much of a stunner. In fact, at the end I thought, for the first time in a very long time, "Hell, I could write better fiction than this".

Then I re-read Evelyn Waugh's Brideshead Revisited. I have no intention of seeing the new movie. This story was filmed in a 1980 miniseries that is a quintessential and faithful rendering of the tale. Plus, it has Jeremy irons and Anthony Andrews. A 2 hour reinterpretation (which, from what I've read, strays far from the original text) strikes me - even with Emma Thompson - as a gigantic waste of celluloid. But I digress. I'm not going to see the movie because I loved the miniseries. I revisited Brideshead because it's something I have to do every year. This is one of my Top Ten All Time Favorite Books.

It also reminded me why I don't write fiction. Brideshead is, to me, a perfect book: deceptively simple in some ways but rich in description and characters. It is a book about grace and redemption and even though I know it practically by heart, it always offers up something completely new.

Yesterday, in 2 sittings, I polished off I Feel Bad About My Neck by Nora Ephron. I've seen all her movies (I think) but never read a one of her books. Hello? The Neighbor loaned it to me. She was a little "meh" about it, liked it well enough but... I, on the other hand, loved it. Ephron is funny and honest, she loves to cook. She is, perhaps, a little more gloomy about getting older than I am but she mostly addresses it in such an amusing way that it didn't make me feel bad. Of course, by the time I finished the book I had also pretty much decided I'd never write again myself because there was no point - an insecurity I'm prone to in the face of good writing but I usually get over it.

In fact, something that is already helping me get over it is a little project that requires me to read blogs. You'd think that would be the sweetest deal ever and it would be if I were reading your blogs. But I'm not. (I am, of course, but not for the project). Anyway, point is, I suspect you have no idea how much crap is out there. Seriously. Crappity crap crap. How did I manage to find all of you - with your gift for story telling, your humor, your insight? I was honestly under the impression that having found you I'd better stop while I was ahead. It wasn't just that I didn't want my blogroll to get out of control but really, I just couldn't afford to add any more "must reads" to my life. Turns out, all y'all are the creme de la creme; those "must reads" are far and few between. Oh, I'm finding them and some may even be revisited for my own pleasure later but lordy. You should seriously give yourself a pat on the back right now for adding worthwhile content to the blogosphere. Trust, you're doing a public service.

Now I'm going to get some water and take a break. And read.

"I Will Now Sell Five Copies of The Three EPS by the Beta Band"

An applesauce cake to the first person who correctly identifies that quote. Next time I see you, anyway.

It's been a lazy week. It's probably the last week of it's kind for the foreseeable future. The Child will be back tonight and come September I'll have to be working in earnest to pay for things like high school tuition and braces. Which is groovy because I'm ready. I thought I was going to be all nostalgic for what is the end of an era but it turns out I'm not. I think, in fact, that the era ended a while ago and I just didn't realize it. Or maybe the nostalgia will come later. The fact is, I still have most of the summer ahead of me to enjoy with The Child. Next summer will be the big change...she'll have her high school friends to hang out with, maybe a job. I'll be working. This will be the last summer for lazy days, picnics, sitting in the back garden with a good book and a cool drink.

Yeah. Still doesn't make me sad. Not right now anyway. It's been a good run but it's time for a different schedule. Like I said, I'm ready.



Beta Band "Dry the Rain"

Summerdasical

ChouChou called the other day, to see how our trip had been. (I love Chou² with all my heart but she is a Luddite. She does not use email or read blogs. She knows how to turn on a computer but she does not use it. This is oddly charming in my hyper-connected experience, but super weird. I digress).

I regaled her with tales and raved about our new friends and then she asked if I was getting back to normal. In a word, "No".

I don't even have a handle on what "normal" is supposed to be at the moment. School had only just got out when we left for Chicago and those few non-school days prior were full of parties and packing and such. It's not like there was time or opportunity to even think about what a "summer schedule" would look like, let alone implement one.

And then we were gone, and that week certainly didn't conform to anything approaching "normal", which was fitting as we were on vacation.

Returning home, things did not "normalize". This owes to Chou²'s theory that it takes 2 days to recover for every 1 day that you are out of town. If her math is correct, that means I should be back in the saddle, so to speak, by tomorrow. But then the weekend is hardly the time to be all disciplined and time-clocky, especially this weekend when The Child and I plan to do nothing but read the 7th Harry Potter book. (2 preordered copies, which we will pick up on Saturday morning but not at midnight because I'm eager but not insane).

Then I read this and this and it appears I'm not alone in my fumbling for, for what? Resolve? Order? Discipline? Energy?

But then I thought of something else. Who cares? Geez, it's summer. This is supposed to be the time of livin' easy, dawdling, being all leisurely and carefree and not bound by time frames. I always manage to forget that in the transition from school time to summer time. Summer time means not doing as much, going as often (haven't put gas in the car in 3 weeks!). It means dining al fresco as often as possible, and yes, even eating later than usual. (Although I'm pushing it with the 8pm dinnertime thing. I'll work on that). Summer is watching the garden, waiting on grapes and tomatoes. It means crossing my fingers every time I go to the market, hoping for figs. It means sleeping in and going to bed late and lounging around with a good book. And if there is any rousing to be done, it is for things like lunch out or taking in a matinee or going to the lake (there's a concept).

Good lord. It's not like we're living in squalor. I'm not ignoring my responsibilities. But golly Moses, this summer I have the luxury of fewer expectations and I need to be enjoying that instead of feeling guilty about some ephemeral and unpinnable "ought".

Not to mention, this is likely the last summer of it's kind. A) By next summer I will surely be working outside of the home (and even if Graydon Carter finally calls and says, "You simply must become a contributing writer on our staff", that will still be working). And 2) The Child will hopefully be spending next summer in France.

Not to mention, all the summers after her Grand Tour will not be like this one. She'll be in high school. She'll have a summer job. She'll be busy running around with friends, which will be infinitely cooler than hanging in the back garden with her old mum and a book. Nope. this is the last summer of a grand and glorious era and as such, deserves to be dished up and savored like a fresh raspberry tart (and isn't that a nice idea for pudding tonight?)

I swear, blogging about stuff like this is the best. I feel so much better now. And inspired by Sling, I am currently making a large pot of Scotch oats and then I'm going to invite The Child to come sit with me on the deck while we eat them. And yeah, it's 10am and we're just now getting around to having breakfast. Geez, it's summer.

In Praise of Girlfriends and Dinner Guests

Friday night was a slumber party baby shower for Seattle Coffee Girl. What can I say? Good friends, good wine, good food and one very stubborn baby who absolutely refuses to kick his Auntie Raine.

I made melon soup for one course. Stina thought that mixed with vodka it would be a perfect summer cocktail. (The green is honeydew with mint and ginger ale; the apricot colored one is cantaloup with yogurt and honey. Really yummy. And yeah, blended with vodka would be worth the experiment).

Ree brought spa stuff so it was all about the manis and pedis and facials and generally being girlie. Which is just a really fun thing to do from time to time.

Sleeping on the floor has, sadly, lost it's charm. But waking up to coffee, mimosa, waffles, eggs and bacon in the a.m. was more than adequate compensation.

I came home from that party and went straight to bed and took a proper nap for about 2 hours. Then I was in fine mettle for preparing for the Summer Solstice feast. I have detailed the menu over at "Here's the Dish" so you're welcome to go over there for the yumfest. Suffice to say it was a lovely, lovely evening. The food was really good and the company even better.

Not to mention, and please don't think me shallow, but can these people give hostess gifts, or what? I swear. Prezzies are not the reason I entertain but holy moly, these 2 couples have pretty much just raised the whole thing to an art form.

ChouChou, who has always brought perfectly lovely things, has taken to getting specific requests from me. So I sent her in the direction of Williams Sonoma and a line of chicken motif tablewares I've been collecting. Except, she's the sort of person who, if you say, "I sure could use a new air freshener for my car" will not only by you a pretty little pine tree air freshener but the car to put it in. Consequently, she gave me the tablecloth I'd requested, plus napkins.

But isn't it pretty?

I ♥ it very much.

The Cardinal says that the very pretty French script is just made up nonsense. But we don't care.

He and Mr. Mikey are also no slouches in the hostess-gifting department. This season's offering: a new welcome mat.

I find this highly amusing. But cool as it is, pause for a moment and consider this:

That would be a Moroccan rosewater sprinkler. For The Child. Because every 13 year old girl needs a Moroccan rosewater sprinkler. Which she used with lavish spirit. (Because of course he thought to include both rose and orange water for her use). I'm kinda jealous but have been told that is not sporting of me.

Anyway, the food was fab and no one mentioned that the amuse bouche was the same one I served at the Autumnal Feast. (L'horreur!) I had reviewed all the menus of Solstice Feasts past to make sure there were no repeats but didn't think to research the entire history of feasts with this group. Not that anyone would mind if they did remember because it was an amusing bouche and certainly worth a repeat.

This cozy group of friends has been ringing in the summer season this way for 10 years now. Which is a nice, long time to keep a tradition going, I think.

Moi, playing with my dessert wine glass (empty, of course).

The Cardinal, The Child and Moi

ChouChou does not like having her picture taken.

Mr. Mikey, The Spouse and John, who don't mind being photographed at all.

It was a very satisfying and entertaining weekend. But I'll be super honest with you: after back-to-back dinner parties, book-ended on either side by potluck parties elsewhere, I was really happy to have Thai take-away for dinner last night. And there's some lasagne in the freezer that would be good for dinner tonight. Even the Czarina sometimes needs a mini-break from cooking.

Now For Some Good News

The school picnic was a success. I know this, because both parents and teachers were coming up to tell me how great it was. They particularly liked that it happened right after school let out, rather than being on another day.

Attendance was significantly improved over other years. That was a good thing. Except for the fact that we barely had enough food, even with me making an emergency run to Costco right before it started.

I thought this photo was amusing:

We had pinatas for the little kids and they recruited The Child to help them. She has developed something of a reputation for being the person who's gonna bring it on home when it comes to pinata whacking. Not, perhaps, the sort of thing one puts on a high school application but we all have our gifts.

Please note the use of the phrase "high school application". Because I now am in possession of an 8th grader. Who needs a cocktail?

The Child was exceedingly proud of her report card, as well she should be. She just barely missed getting honors because she had one D. But since that D was in math and up from the F of last trimester, she'll take it. Not to mention that her teacher gave her high marks for effort and told me himself that she had worked really, really hard. As for the rest of her grades, though, wow. She brought up her grades, in all but one subject. And when I say "brought up", we're talking about A's and B's up from C's and D's. Yeah, I'm bragging and you're going to sit there and listen to it. This is a huge, huge accomplishment for her. Not to mention that the 8th grade teacher (who had her for social studies and lit this year) said that if she can just get her organization worked out and turn in on time the work that she does, she'd be "golden".

Of course, we know that. She knows that. So once again, this summer, we will work on those skills some more.

Last night she made a flyer, advertising herself as a Mother's Helper, and distributed it to some young families in the 'hood. Hopefully she'll get a few gigs. I'm a firm believer in kids being able to just knock around for the summer and not being over-programmed, even though I totally understand that most people have to work and don't have the luxury of letting their kids bash around kid-like for 2.5 months. But that said, The Child is now at an age where the responsibility of work is not a bad thing, either. And she gets snaps for being all entrepreneurial and motivated.

I must away. I promised The Child we'd blow some gift cards at The Gap. I need to find a kicky skirt for Chicago. And I need to make a salad for the Ministries dinner at church tonight. This is always a very lovely affair, with dinner catered by Mario Batali's folks. Yeah, we know how to roll.

Happy first day of summer, y'all. It was supposed to rain here today but at present it is beautifully sunny and mild. The tomatoes want watering. Oh, golly, how I love this time of year.