Yesterday I realized we had no real dessert in the house. Travesty! (Also the result of ten days away, and being really OCD about cleaning your kitchen before vacation.) There's usually at least something sweet to be scrounged up, whether cocoa powder for a quick stovetop chocolate pudding or a leftover slice of cake wrapped up in the freezer. Okay, perhaps I'm being dramatic, as there was a pint of vanilla ice cream with a few spoonfuls left in the bottom (and a serious case of freezer burn), but nary a cookie in sight.
I’ve spent the week in southern California; two friends from college got married on Saturday in San Diego. Having never been south of Los Angeles before, I was expecting a lot of fish tacos and to be able to spend at least two days pretending I was a cast member on Laguna Beach (kidding!) (not kidding!).
Things I'm appreciative of:
1. How easy it is to make a solid Aperol spritz at home [2 parts Aperol + 3 parts Prosecco. You're supposed to add a splash of club soda, but let's face it, that just gets in the way of things.]
2. Old movies. We grew up without television, and on Friday nights my dad would take us to the closest Blockbuster (when you live on a farm, that's a 15 minute drive), and he'd pick out a movie, which we'd tote home in its blue plastic Blockbuster cover. The four girls, in our matching pjs, would snuggle up and watch things like Casablanca and old PJ Wodehouse films and Mrs. 'Arris Goes to Paris. Our favorites were Doris Day and Fred Astaire movies and they still make feel me so comforted and happy.
If you want a good song, put on "River" by Leon Bridges. Then put on "Priceless" by For Kings and Country and sing really loudly when they get to the i see you dressed in white/every wrong made right bit (trust me, although I do realize this is a Christian gospel band but look, it's catchy). Then put on "Gold Angel" by Minke.
Today the rain started lightly, tapping at the window to wake me up early. It's coming down in sheets now. Every time a car passes outside on the dark street, it sounds mysterious and hushed, swooshing through the wet puddles. I'm finishing a glass of wine and sampling a slice of babka, which I made today using a recipe I'm playing around with (more on that soon).
I feel a little like Adele right now (not in the sense of being able to carry a tune or having cheekbones fantastically suited to blush or anything like that): "hellooo, it's me..." Are you guys still there? Is this thing still on? I hope you are!
There's a crispness to the air outside, but fall hasn't decided yet whether to fully arrive. It hovers nearby, letting the sun seep in. The warmth is layered over the cool temperatures, syrupy and amber-colored, in a clever stratification of weather: hot on cold on warm on chilly.
I'm here. Words inhabit my days always; sometimes they swarm, buzzing loudly until I have to pin them down with ink on paper to quiet them. Sometimes they hide at the corners of my head, hazy and evasive, too shadowy to see clearly. When I try and name them, they shift away from me.
I haven't put them here in some time, so I'll remedy that bit by bit. Instead of starting broadly, I'll start with the small and concrete. Our days are built of those details after all, aren't they? Grand life stories, made of stacks of tiny moments.
It's June 21, and two and a half months of summer stretch ahead. I see it in freeze frames: snapshots of picnics and hot, sweaty runs and cases of grapefruit La Croix seltzer water. Can you picture it? What's the perfect day?
Some days feel a little off-kilter. Nothing you can put your finger on. The shower doesn’t get hot fast enough. It’s cloudy when you’re wishing for sun. You look at the clock too often, acutely aware of how long it takes to get from 2:30 to 2:40.
Other days are the opposite. You catch the subway seconds before the doors close, every time. You feel buoyant and chatty: The cashiers all smile at you. Your coffee tastes better than yesterday. The pear sitting on your kitchen counter has ripened perfectly, dripping juice down your fingers when you eat it outside in the sun.