June with a Spoon

Yeah, I know. Looks as though I've been dragged into the kitchen again, kicking and screaming in protest. Didn't we already eat today? Hey, I'm the one who was paying attention last century when the scientists promised that we would eliminate meats and veggies and merely be able to swallow a palmful of capsules for nourishment. Still waiting.

It's too hot to cook, y'all. Can't we just have a Popsicle and call it a day? Even the refrigerator is having a melt down and refuses to respond when I press its digital temperature buttons. So confusing ....... is a higher number cooler? Shouldn't it be the other way? Where is the frickin' bottle of nutritional pills?

For those of you who are still hung up on food prep, I don't remember where I found this recipe, but it was actually quite tasty and easy as boiling water. Pasta, cantaloupe, arugula, fontina cheese, and homemade poppyseed dressing. It's summer. You're welcome.

Soccer Mom

I've seen more than my share of soccer matches. None of them any less exciting than the ones in South Africa at this year's World Cup. Play on. Now where did I put my vuvuzela?

And the Livin' is Easy

Summertime used to be my favorite time of the year. Notice I am speaking in the past tense. You know that familiar saying too much of a good thing? Well, that's what I'm talking about. The summer solstice just arrived a few days ago and the temperature is stuck on 99 degrees - OK sometimes it's 100 but that doesn't sound as cool. I am posting at 11:00 PM Central Daylight Time, and it's still 90 fryin' degrees. Yes, I said ninety. And it's only 81 in Fort Myers. How can that be? Don't people go to Florida to be hot?

The geranium is wilting on the deck, the squirrels are panting, splayed out on the tree branches...... It's too hot to walk in the park, to play golf, to go for a swim (if I had a pool), or to barbecue. So it's winter upside down - we're confined to the cabin, avoiding Mother Nature's hot flashes.

In case you're wondering, I don't know what kind of blooming tree that is. It grows across the street in front of a house that has a for sale sign, proclaiming, "I'm gorgeous inside." It's not.

Irony

Maureen Dowd's recent column has made me think about the irony in our lives.

How ironic that the subject of my latest needlepoint stitching is the brown pelican. When I began this creation, I could see the birds from my window and hear them diving headfirst into the Caloosahatchee River with a resounding kerplunk only to resurface with hapless fishes sloshing around in their pouchy beaks. A truly amazing feat -- one wonders how/why they don't break their necks. It's like bungee jumping with a cord that's too long. I glance up from my canvas at the television set, and these descendants of dinosaurs are not diving. or jumping. or fishing. As a species, they have just recently been removed from the endangered list. I hope we haven't acted too hastily.

Continuing with the irony: who can watch the members of Congress grill the CEO of BP without wondering who should cast the first stone.

More irony: America's vacation spot goes on vacation.

Even more ironic: The nation's breeding ground becomes a cemetery.

Can you hear that? I think it's Send in the Clowns.

- not the end- is it?

Bye Bye Birdie

carolyn cole/los angeles times

Some blogs I peruse have posts labeled Wordless Wednesday or some such where the author shares pictures which evidently need no explanation. How could anyone possibly explain that top picture. I can barely look at it, let alone explain it. Help me out here. Those birds suffocating in the oil gushing up from the Gulf floor ....... those dudes don't even drive cars. What are we doing people? You know what they say about fouling the nest .......

look here if you dare

Enfin

Now that Memorial Day has come and gone, it is finally safe for these shoes to come out of the closet. Not certain who made the rule no white shoes before Memorial Day or after Labor Day. Just one of those things your mother told you like wear white gloves to church and don't let your bra straps show. Obviously as forgotten as hoop skirts and crinolines in the current century .... so why does this fashion dictate continue to dog us? I'm not a big fan of the white shoe at any time of the year (although these two pairs occasionally adorn my feet - not at the same time, of course), but I do try to avoid offending the fashion police. And I suppose a little bit of foppish tradition is not a bad thing.