Perfect

I know I post a lot of photos of the beach.

But here's the thing.

Summer lasts 12 seconds, and winter lasts 11 months.

So we take summer by the horns, and we go with it.

And yesterday was one of those days that summertime gives, like a gift from the goddesses, when everything is gorgeous and perfect. The water was like glass and the clouds were mesmerizing, and the ferries were lit up like rock stars and the peeps were perfect.

The peeps were perfect. That's the main thing.

Who, us?

Yeah. Perfect.

The beach was perfect.

The boats were perfect.

The ferries were perfect.

Ledgie was perfect.

And did I mention the peeps? Although they shall remain invisible for today's purposes, they were perfect.

Even Mr. Dibble.

And Jelly-Roll?

Yeah . . .

. . . perfect.

Pulverized

We made blender drinks yesterday -- of course we did; it was July out there -- and used, natch, our blender. Because one uses a blender to make blender drinks. It's the law.

The thing about our blender, though? It was a wedding present (thank you, Joan) (I think). And that means that -- like our marriage -- it is 25 years old.

Which also means? It is old-school awesome.

You millennials out there? You Cuisinart-owning one-appliance-blender-cum-food-processor wanna-be's??

Do you have 14 settings?

No, of course you do not. You do not have 14 settings.

We oldsters, though? We've got 14, baby.

We have Whip. We Whip it good.

We have Stir. We Stir it up, little darlin'.

We have Aerate. I looked up Aerate and the sample sentence was "she would aerate the lawn with high heels". I'm going with it.

We have Puree. Bring us your baby; we will Puree her veggies.

We have Crumb. Don't be a Crumb or we will Crumb you.

We have Chop. We can Chop liver.

We have Mix. Some peoples have Mixers: we don't go in for that; we have Mix.

We have Grate. When things get Grating.

We have Grind. Because New London is the home of the Grinder.

We have Beat. We also Got The Beat.

We have Pulverize. We have Pulverize. We can Pulverize things. We can Pulverize everything.

We have Blend. Because it is a Blender.

We have Frappe. Because, apparently, it is Boston in the 1950s.

And we have Liquefy. So don't cross us, because we will Liquefy you.

Does it matter that every speed entails the blades rotating quickly, to efficiently and thoroughly, well, blend the contents of the blender's carafe?

No it does not. Because we can Pulverize.

And because we also have amazing cobalt blue frozen drinks glasses into which to pour our pulverized, frapped, crumbed, pureed, aerated, chopped, blended beverages . . .

They're 25 years old too.

The HIgh Seas

Ahoy, matey!

That's what they say when you're headed off onto the High Seas.

Ahoy!

Ahoy!

We left the lovely Whaling City on a fast speed catamaran to look at the lighthouses and the sights -- wait! What was it called? Oh I know -- Lights and Sights! -- and it was quite a journey.

First up: New London Light. Tallest, best, baddest, yetcetera . . .

They shoulda put me on the stamp too.

And then?

Our dearly beloved Ledgie.

Aw, Ledgie.

The narrator of our two-hour-tour never ever stopped speaking, but we learned things. We learned! We learned that Lord Dumpling lives here and is the Lord of the Dumplonians, and he has his own navy. It's a fleet of one sea-faring vessel. And he prints his own money. And maybe has his own language?

That was a good one.

Stonington, Mystic, etc.

Wait, was I supposed to remember the names of all the lighthouses?
 

I guarantee you that Lincoln did.

Watch Hill! Just like that. It was *so* nice to be back -- I mean, we were gone from that place for three whole days. I have never quite seen this specific view -- the Ocean House *behind* Auntie Tay-Tay's house . . . I have got to get out on the High Seas more often . . .

. . . especially on a fast-ferry boat.

Oh, that Watch Hill Light . . .

. . . oh, that Fishers Island*.

(*part of New York, and no apostrophe).

Wait a second, I took photos too. I mean, come on! Look how awesome:

Possibly my favorite photo of us of all time . ..  

I know. You're welcome.

Anyway.

My personal favorite of the trip: Race Rock Light . . .

. . . and Mistah's dark horse favorite: Little Gull Light.

Who knew?

Nobody, that's who. Nobody knew that Ledgie had so many lighthouse friends out there. But now we do.

We practically had the boat to ourselves. It seats 600.
We were maybe 40.

We raced the Susan Ann back to New London . . .

. . . and we won. Of course we did. We're fast. We're a fast ferry.

Oh look! Another fast ferry heading out . . .

. . . as we were heading in.

Oh hello again, New London.

What a beautiful town you are . . .

What a sight to see . . .

Anybody hungry?

These goobers are. The sloth and the slug. As we affectionately refered to them . . .

. . . these two weren't so bad either . . .

. ..  and neither was the world's best BLT. And don't think for one second we did not eat that whole mess of love. Because we did.

When we got back to shore, Jennie and I said to eachother, "We're going to be at Greta's party in a few weeks, and we're going to look at the fast ferry doing the lighthouse tour, and we're going to say, 'We really, finally, for once in our fool lives, we have got to do that lighthouse tour this year . . . oh wait a minute! We did! We did! Wedidit!!'"

"Ah ha ha ha hahahahhahaha!!"

Ah, ha ha ha. 

Thank you, my friend.

What a tour on the High Seas.

Happy Labor Day!

Everybody knows what to do. We've discussed it all before. Many times.

Read all the books.

Drink all the drinks.

Eat all the food.

Gaze upon all the clouds . . .

. . . and the wildlife.

Admire all the morning glory.

Get all thy tootsies to the beach . . .

. . . and don't forget to call your friends.

Happy Labor Day!!