I've gained five pounds since Bernie got his new grill.
Now there are a few reasons for this: my left knee has been acting up rather painfully, so I can't do power walks in the morning; the deliciousness of the grilled meats Bernie makes inspire the rest of us to come up with excessive amounts of side dishes; and I'm so happy to be back in California that I have no restraint in enjoying our culinary adventures on the patio to the very max that my stomach can hold.
The hopseeds are drying on the tree, soon to begin dropping into drifts on the patio, signaling the half-way point of summer here.
A mockingbird has taken up her 5:30 am post on the neighbor's palmetto, singing her deafening refrain, "Come here, come here, come here, what-a-dummy, what-a-dummy, what-a-dummy, brrrt, brrrt, brrrt!" (The last bit sounds like a cell phone ring.)
The little mister is available on the patio for daily use, making a fine spray of water to cool the heated limbs while we chat in the shade; the big line mister is hoisted from the house to the hopseed tree to drench us in heavy drizzle on these triple-digit days.
Howie puffs and pants behind me as I move through the house in the mid-morning; Sebastian sits by the back door and makes squeaking sounds that should not come from a 75-pound dog. They know that the best part of the day is the part that includes leaping wildly into the pool. Each dog has his way of begging for the adventure.
I finally got around to reclaiming my studio after our days away, and afterwards, spent hours on the next project. I can feel my brain working on the possibilities even while I write this.
I love summer in the Central Valley, and I love a brain that can still work on autopilot.