SummerTunes

 We've gotten out and about a couple times this summer, to see live music outside at our little city's beautiful Waterfront Park . . . 

The CarLeans are some of our faves and they played on a beautiful night last week and the only bad thing is we didn't get a photo of the two sailors climbing up to the top of that mast during the show . . . 

. . . but the good thing is we got the photo of the world's cutest bar. And bartender.

It's quite a lovely scene down there.

Jane came to visit Mom over the weekend and when a sister visits, I make very sure Mistah takes one photo . . . 

. . . which shows off the pool and sky in all their glory. Sigh.

Other summertime delights? 

Our enthusiastic practice of grilling chicken and veggies while talking on the phone . . . 

. . . and the glory of the season of what we call purple loosestrife, even though it is not, in fact, purple loosestrife.

Ah, Summahtime . . . 

Down, as in Batten and Hunker

That Henri guy was a pesky stinker.

We did All The Things to prepare for Hurricane Tropical Storm Henri. To, you might say, Batten Down

Here we were Before.

Obviously, we had a *lot to do.

But moving everything around gave us a chance to admire the gorgeousness of our little friends . . . 

August looks good around here.

We harvested the 'maters . . . 

(...That's my dress, not an apron. 

Thankfully there were no neighbors around...)

. . . we brought it all in . . . 

. . . and added it to the neighbors' donations and farmers' market finds . . .

. . . and even those deck palms came inside . . . 

. . . it was very festive and hilarious in the kitchen.

. . . I think they liked it too.

. . . and once we were Battened, we got ready to Hunker.

Henri arrived and it rained and the winds swirled and we ate all the Hurricane snacks and drank all the Hurricane beverages and all of a sudden it was over and we brought everything back out and it was a gorgeous summer afternoon . . . 

. . . so we even mopped our almost-never-naked kitchen dance floor in celebration.

And then all hell broke loose.

The radar lied; Henri didn't go quietly west. He hung out and sent his wind to us from the *other* direction and everything fell down. Well, not everything but you know what I mean.

But we picked it up and went on with our lives, because what else can you do?

We're lucky and happy to be safe and dry and electric with no damage, and we hope everybody else made it through okay.

Pesky, that Henri guy.

The Dog Days

You know it, I know it; everybody knows it.

These are the Dog Days of Summer and it is the most magical time of the year and I don't want to hear a peep out of any of Santa's elves -- it's true. 

It is pure gloriousness.

And also? It is pure let's-see-what's-on-the-phone time of the year because who has time to think?

Because let's face it. If you're working hard in August, you're either a brain surgeon or you're an over-achiever.

And I am neither.

There has been a lot of beach-going . . . 

(and pretend you can see Ledgie behind Mistah's head) . . . 

. . . there has been cousin-visiting . . . 

. . . oh man, how we love our Amy.

She got a new plant-hat whilst she was here.

What else?

These adorable dollfaces stopped by one afternoon . . . 

. . . my cousin Kristen texted me with a photo of our wedding matches she found in her parents' house and I texted right back with our own righteousness.

Oh the Little League World Series. Oh the heart palpitations. Oh that glorious Budarz Clan . . . 

Can of chardonnay for the Mistah in the Field? Oh, I think so . . . 

. . . and of course I won a Summer Reading library prize. What do you take me for?

Hey, thanks for the cool photo of us, Kimmie . . . 

And finally, the Girls of Summer . . . Oh those Girls . . . 

Man, I love summer. Man, I love this summer.

And I am thankful for every Dog Day moment.

N+J

We love these two friends of ours so very deeply. 

They came to see us again yesterday.

And we had ourselves a Time.

Jonny and I have been giving eachother this look for well nigh over 30 years . . . 

He's the best.

Well, second best, after his bride . . . 

August is when things get nutso around these parts . . . 

. . . can't keep up . . . 

. . . won't keep up.

. . . just the way we like it.

Oh, did I tell you Pooprah came too?

As Mumsie would say, she's a good dog, really.

But mostly, let's face it . . . 

. . . It's all about My Girl Nancy.

She's my fave.

Back, And Better Than Ever

 ITAM is back.

I know, I know, it's been several long, tear-filled, hopeless years without it, but a new day has dawned, and ITAM has found a new home in August, and I am happy to announce it is officially International T-Shirt Appreciation Month.

And what better way to kick off the festivities than the return of the Dharma Bums?

Three of my favorite boys in all the land were on my deck yesterday, and they happened to be sporting their ITAM regalia -- coincidentally, serendipitously -- and well, all became right with the world.

Especially when the lobster rolls hit those empty plates.

And then? Even better?

Sports.

There was throwing . . . 

. . . throwing and catching . . . 

. . . and more throwing and catching . . . 

Lots and lots of throwing and catching and frisbee amongst these boys. I've known Mistah for 30 years but I've known Scott and Lou for 40 and hanging with them all just filled my heart with joy and love.

I'm on the IL so I was on the sidelines basking in the love and taking mediocre photos and celebrating the fact that ITAM is back, my friends.

And better than ever.