I really don’t have a specific topic tonight. In fact, I have spent most of the day trying to come up with something interesting to say. All I really have is a list of musings on what’s going on in my head, in my life, in general.
We are in the tail end of a hot spell, I have men on the roof putting up new shingles and the entire world has become viewed through a lens of a staccato punctuated humidity haze. Not that I’m complaining. A new roof is a good thing. Still, after a bit you find yourself doing things like trying to sync your typing to the nail gun. Pro tip – really not possible to do that.
Not complaining about the heat either, not really. We are having a lingering summer and I am all for that. Though lots of folks I am talking to are complaining. The usual discussion has come up – the whole it’s not the heat, it’s the humidity. Which always makes me smile. Ninety is hot, humidity be damned. And why do we get so much joy out of telling people how much worse things are where we grew up, lived, or once visited? Yes, I get that 112 in the shade is worse, but in this moment? Ninety is hot. Deal with it.
Harvest appears to be in full swing here in the Northwest. I am on call to do some fruit sorting, if the need arises and that should be fun. I have tried unsuccessfully to volunteer for harvests for several years now. Something always gets in the way, but this year I am hopeful. I am fascinated by the science behind my favorite beverages. Which I suppose makes me a geek, but there it is.
I noticed today that I am getting quite a well stocked bar cabinet. I’m not sure why this surprises me. I have vodka from New Deal, I have Doug Fir gin from Bainbridge Organic Distillers, I have Chinato from Cana’s Feast, I have aquavit from House Spirits and I have rum from Cuba. Noticed also that I am completely bereft of mixers.
What else? Oh, yeah. I have tried three times this week to get over to the beach. I could really do with a beach walk right now. Something about my toes in warm sand and watching the waves seems to be good for my soul. Like the grape harvest help, things keep getting in the way. But (cue Scarlett O’Hara silhouette and inspiring music) the heaven’s as my witness I will get to Cannon Beach before the month is out. It is silly for me not to go, it is a scant 90 minutes away. Chump change, as far as minutes go.
What things have you been up to?