Favorites 8.12.13
Nectarines. Bright with flavor and beyond juicy just like a peach—but without the shiver-inducing baby fuzz on the skin.
Hiking through the jungle beneath a thunderstorm. You didn't expect the thunder or the rain and you're hiking in shorts but it's not cold and your bathing suit is not dry and the shadows between the trees loom in so close that you can almost touch the dusk around you and the smell and the sound of the rain hitting the leaves makes you think of a real jungle you walked through once when howler monkeys were going wild in the canopy.
Sourdough toast. Slightly browned from the heat coils in your toaster, with a lovely crunch and that snappy sour finish. It makes everything from butter and fig jam to an avocado, cheddar and dijon sandwich taste totally incendiary.
Windblow World: The Journals of Jack Kerouac 1947-54. You can dip in and out anytime you need a bite of self-pondering romanticism or raw, beautiful language.
On The Road
As you may know, I've been excited to see this movie for a long time. Not, like, go see it in the theater excited—but excited. The book and me, we go way back. We get a long—we like each other! So, what'd I do last night but sit down on the couch and watch On The Road the movie ...
... And I was bored. For all the book was about sex and drugs—it really wasn't about sex and drugs, you know? But the movie—the movie was about sex and drugs. Sure, sure, here we go with another threesome ... You just don't end up really caring. But that's okay, I'm not a movie critic and I'm not mad at it. See the frickin movie for all I care. You probably already have, and you probably got bored.
Over Hill, Through Woods
Friday afternoon adventures are an institution I can really get behind. We embarked on one of these last Friday, and I mean look where we ended up?
Leave work early—just make it happen. Drive up the winding road. Walk down the winding trail. Follow the pin on your iPhone until you lose service, and then, oh ye of little faith, just keep putting your feet in front of each other. Maybe, just maybe, you'll emerge from the shade of the pines onto a dazzling sand beach, not a soul in sight, an electric-green pool rippling before you, a rope swing hanging motionless from a tree across that pool.
Favorites 7.29.13
Pattypan squash: Cute. Creamy. The only summer squash worth eating. Believe.
When dogs sniff the wind: There's a moment in a dog's day when he's lying regally by the back door and suddenly the breeze kicks up. Watch him lift his nose to the wind. See him retreat from the front of his eyes as his shining nostrils pulse. Picture how he's catapulting all over the neighborhood on waves of scent—to lilac bushes, to sputtering lawn mowers, to the zucchini rotting in the compost pile, to the dead mice under the porch and all the lotion-greased kids in the park. I just ... it just kills me everytime, guys.
Chambray button-up shirts: For summer, I used to be a cardigan woman, but that's over now. Chambray shirts for life! They're cool and casual. Layer ’em over prom dresses, tank tops, boyfriend's tee shirts, or tube tops and worry not.
David Bowie singing in Italian: The sweet harmonies of Space Oddity, done in Italian, translated as god knows what. Love you, David.