Just for fun

I’ve been sitting here for the last three hours in complete procrastination mode because, deep down, I know I have nothing interesting to say. Actually, that’s not true because the realization that I have nothing interesting to say is right on the surface, not deep down.

Caroline spent most of yesterday with P’s family. My brother-in-law and sister-in-law are in town and they invited Caroline to go with them to the Quadrangle which is basically a petting zoo on the Fort Sam Houston base. They invited me to go along but I declined because if there is anything I like less than a zoo, it’s a petting zoo. Not to mention the fact that I am attempting to show the 100 degree temperatures who’s boss and now refuse to leave home for any length of time unless swimming in some sort of body of water is involved.

That strategy is probably going to make going to the grocery store a little tricky. I guess I should amend my policy to add that I will also go to establishments that aren’t afraid to crank up the A/C and offer me the chance to stand in the freezer section with the doors wide open while I act like I’m trying to choose between a DiGiorno frozen pizza or a Tombstone.

Although there is no choice to be made. Tombstone is clearly the winner in that scenario. Their thin crust pepperoni has not let me down in almost twenty years.

Anyway, while Caroline was petting deer out in the blistering heat in the name of fun, I planned to clean the house. I managed to get the bathrooms clean on Monday but lost momentum when I remembered that I hate cleaning the house.

There is also a minor issue that is proving to be a hindrance to my cleaning efforts. I mean something other than the fact that I like to call Gulley every few minutes and tell her how much I hate cleaning and wish I had a maid and how people who whine a lot get on my nerves.

There are boxes in my living room.

They’ve been there since we got back from our road trip. They’re addressed to P and each box weighs approximately 170 pounds. I don’t know what’s in them because I haven’t asked. I haven’t asked because I know the answer is going to be something that I have no interest in because what are the odds he’s going to say “I ordered you all sorts of cute new shoes for fall!”?

I just know that we now own a lot of something that is both heavy and fragile, much like my self-esteem after I attempted to do Level 3 of The Shred.

I finally just vacuumed around them because I am powerless to move them. Jillian Michaels can do a lot of things but giving me the upper body strength to move 300 pound boxes isn’t one of them.

Maybe tomorrow I’ll drape them with some fabric and create an alternate seating area for the room. And just think how cute they’d look decked out in lights for Christmas.

Of course my intuition (and the fact that I’ve been married to P for almost twelve years and know him well) tells me that the contents are probably somehow related to hunting season which means they’ll no longer be a part of my decor by mid-September.

Until then, I’ll just enjoy stepping over them every time I have to get to my front door.

One of the problems with coming home from a long vacation is an overtired child now programmed to believe that every new day is filled with fun and exciting activities. I mean, once you’ve been to Waco twice in one week everything else is just a letdown. I’m still struggling to get her back into some sort of routine that involves going to bed before 11:00 and eating something other than processed sugar for breakfast. Of course, in all fairness, I’m struggling with those same issues myself.

Yesterday morning I got up, cleaned my bathrooms and did The Shred as penance for my Krispy Kreme transgressions and I have never been more certain that my body was plotting a violent coup against my brain. It’s hard to get back to real life where everyday isn’t filled with lily pad obstacle courses and sympathetic family friends who don’t mind letting you use fifty-two Scooby Doo band-aids to cover one minor scrape.

In fact, I believe the transition to reality from fantasy is why it never works out for the folks on “The Bachelor”. One minute you’re jet-setting from Spain to Maui within 48 hours and the next thing you know you’ve committed to spend the rest of your life with a guy who wears inappropriately short green swim trunks and a blue heathered tank top. Who isn’t going to rethink that decision?

I didn’t mean to get off track, but I couldn’t let the tank top pass. I don’t know what broke my heart more last night, Ed’s sartorial choices or that Jillian sent Reid home. Note to Jillian and any other single girls out there: Pick the guy that makes you laugh. Good abs fade away, but laughter is forever.

Also, seriously think about whether or not you want to spend the rest of your life with a guy who wears a tank top in public. Just because we live in a country where he can show his hairy man pits in public doesn’t mean he should.

Anyway, the other problem with reality is the grocery store elves failed to magically restock my pantry and fridge while I was gone. Even the dogs had run out of food. Of course they didn’t mind because P had fed them ground venison for the last few nights, which is high cotton compared to their usual fare of Purina One Lamb & Rice.

Before we left town I’d gone to HEB and bought some ham and cheese so P could make himself sandwiches for lunch. We also had some lasagna and meatloaf leftovers so I opened the refrigerator before I left and blessed them saying “Be ye fruitful and multiply” in the hopes they would miraculously feed him for a week. I don’t think it worked because I came home to cabinets that Old Mother Hubbard would pity.

I decided to bite the grocery store bullet and go to HEB on Sunday, mainly because I had no choice unless I wanted to serve dried out baby carrots, old celery, half an onion and a few spoonfuls of peanut butter for dinner with a choice of stale Chips Ahoy or expired Trix yogurt for dessert.

P had already started a list before I got home and it included what he believes to be essential items:

Dog Food
Raw Sugar
York Peppermint Patties
Nilla Wafers
Coffee Grinder

Coffee grinder? Why do we need a coffee grinder?

I’ll tell you why. The other night we (he) was watching Uncle Ted’s hunting show and an ad came on for Uncle Ted’s coffee (Uncle Ted is quite the renaissance man) and P decided if it’s good enough for Uncle Ted then it’s good enough for him. I told him I’d order it for him because I didn’t want sixty pounds of it showing up on our door step and while I was out of town he got his ONE POUND ONLY of Wackmaster Sunrize delivered. (I couldn’t make up a better name if I tried)

Unfortunately the Wackmaster Sunrize (oh how I love a “z” in place of an “s”) came in whole bean form, thus the need for a grinder.

Anyway, I filled my cart to overflowing with everything I needed to prepare delicious home-cooked meals for my family or, you know, to heat up a frozen pizza, but then I got to the cereal aisle and experienced two HUGE disappointments.

I tend to get on food kicks, meaning I will find a food I like and will eat it almost constantly until I never want to see it again and just the thought of it makes my stomach turn. My current obsession is Dannon Lowfat Vanilla Yogurt topped with granola and fresh berries. I’ve eaten it for breakfast for about three months straight which is a personal record. Words cannot express my joy at the yogurt and granola.

So imagine my dismay when I realized HEB was completely out of my Bear Naked Triple Berry Crunch granola. I am a triple berry loyalist and there is no acceptable substitute. HEB is NEVER out of the Triple Berry Crunch. I just stood there staring at the empty shelf space where the Triple Berry Crunch is supposed to be trying to will it into existence. But, alas, I had to settle for an inferior product.

Then I headed further down the aisle to buy P’s favorite breakfast food, Peanut Butter Kashi Bars. Guess what? They were out of them.

I’m not one to cry “conspiracy theory” but I believe someone or something is trying to cheat us out of our complete breakfast experience. How else do explain the simultaneous lack of Peanut Butter Kashi Bars and Triple Berry Crunch granola?

Well, other than to say that sometimes real life is hard.

Of course it’s even harder if you’re married to a man who wears tank tops in public.

Which is why I made P throw all of his away once we got married.

There are few sounds that always remind me of summer; ice cream truck music, cicadas chirping in the evening, and questionable salmon sizzling on the grill at the pool.

This summer I’ve added a new sound to my list, it’s the sound of P sawing holes in our attic in an attempt to let out the hot air. At the rate he’s going I’m afraid we won’t have a roof by September, just a tarp with a large fan while he stands under it with his Radio Shack thermometer and says, “Does it feel any cooler yet?”

“Nope, not yet. Check back with me in December.”

Anyway, one last sound of summer is a good fourth of July playlist. Granted, we’re not doing anything for the fourth due to my hectic week of keeping my pool commitments, but we’ll still need some good music to listen to as we think about all our friends at the beach and the lake.

Actually, we’ll probably be at the pool because rumor has it there will be both a seed-spitting contest and a belly flop contest. I don’t mean to brag (Yes I do; I totally mean to brag) but Caroline won the belly flop contest last year and we’re hoping for a repeat championship. It brings a new meaning to the old saying “No guts, no glory”.

My list is slightly unconventional because, well, it’s my list and you should all know by now that I have the musical sensibilities of a disc jockey at a junior high dance party. Plus, as much as I enjoy listening to Neil Diamond’s “America” and yelling out “TODAY!” during the chorus, I chose songs that weren’t overtly patriotic because I tried to avoid the obvious choices.

So, without further rambling (sure), here is my list of twelve summertime songs because I couldn’t narrow it down to ten because it felt like I was reenacting a scene from “Sophie’s Choice”.

1. America the Beautiful – Ray Charles

Okay, sure, this is an obvious choice, but I have to include it because it doesn’t feel like the fourth of July to me until I hear Ray sing. It’s guaranteed to make me cry every year.

2. Pink Houses – John Cougar Mellencamp

John Cougar, with or without the Mellencamp, is a fan of the patriotic song. For some reason this one is my favorite. Maybe because I once lived in a pink house.

3. Soak up the Sun – Sheryl Crow

Obviously. One summer before P and I had Caroline we headed to Port Aransas for a little vacation. I remember sitting on the ferry listening to this song and thinking this is what pure contentment feels like.

4. Vacation – The Go-Go’s

If this video didn’t make you want to be a part of some sort of all-girl water ski performance team then I don’t know if we can be friends.

5. Senorita – Justin Timberlake

Truthfully, I could make a list of only Justin Timberlake songs because they all make me so happy. I chose this one because it just feels summery to me. It’s like a cold drink in song form.

6. Summertime – DJ Jazzy Jeff and The Fresh Prince

Because even if it’s 105 degrees outside, it’s not summer until I hear it.

7. Sing a Song – Earth, Wind & Fire

Happy. Happy. Happy.

8. Going Back to Cali – LL Cool J

Truth be told I’ve never been to Cali and you can’t go back to somewhere you’ve never been, but none of that matters. What matters is that I have always loved this song and it reminds me of summers at the beach when I was in high school, even though Crystal Beach is the polar opposite of anything in California, and by that I mean it’s not even remotely pretty.

9. Your Love – The Outfield

It reminds me of being on vacation. I think it’s because the opening lyrics say, “Josie’s on a vacation far away…”

10. Breathe – Michelle Branch

There are certain songs I just love the minute I hear them and this was one of them. It makes me want to get in a convertible and drive around with the top down singing at the top of my lungs while my hair whips in the wind. Except I can’t stand to have my hair whipping in the wind. It’s a minor detail.

11. Bizarre Love Triangle – New Order

I realize this may seem like an odd choice, given that I’ve never expressed a penchant for any sort of techno-pop, but it brings back vivid memories of the summer after I graduated from high school. To this day, I experience an odd craving for a berry wine cooler whenever I hear it. Not that I drank any wine coolers, I just knew people who did.

12. Boys of Summer – Don Henley

I used to think it said, “I can see you, your brow’s getting shiny in the sun” and I’d always think that he’d be better off to not talk about his girlfriend’s sweat issues. Only later did I realize he was singing, “I can see you, your brown skin shining in the sun” and I thought that made a lot more sense.

Let’s not even pretend that there aren’t countless great songs missing from this list. What’s on your fourth of July playlist? What song feels like summer?

And, remember as we celebrate the fourth:

Everywhere around the world
They’re coming to America (TODAY!)
Every time that flag’s unfurled
They’re coming to America (TODAY!)

God bless America. Y’all have a happy 4th!

Ree brought some homemade cinnamon rolls to us for breakfast this morning and I’m pretty sure they’re the reason God made Oklahoma.