After a surprise hour-long thunderstorm just before dawn this morning which dumped over an inch and a half of rain (which went East of us to produce a tornado in Brooklyn!), we’ve had a really scorchingly hot and humid day here. Whew. Several times I walked outside and gasped for air. It felt like I was breathing in liquid. Nasty stuff. At one time we had a heat index of 100.2. The dogs only went outside to do the necessary doggie things; otherwise they were camped in the house with me. Just a few minutes ago Rick let them out for “finals” and he yelled for me to come quick! I never know what this means but I always try to get there ASAP.

This is what he wanted me to see:

Mr. Toad had made it all the way up on our deck and the dogs thought he was pretty interesting. Now for this toad to find his way up on the deck he would have to hop up a minimum of eight or nine steps. No easy feat for this little guy.

After I toad-ally blinded him with the camera flash, Rick picked him up and took him back down the stairs into the yard. I hope he wasn’t trying to make his way into the air-conditioned house because his attempt failed horribly. Hopefully he’s thankful we “saved” him. If not, he’s really pissed off right now with having to hop his way back up all those stairs!

Sleep well, Mr. Toad!

Johnny is feeling so much better now. We found a traveling “spa” to come and give him a tune-up. The past three times I’ve mowed the yards I’ve had to jump start him. Poor guy. Now he has a new battery, his blades are sharpened, and he has a new oil filter. He runs like new!

So, ride along with me as I mow the side front yard. You can see just how much grass we have, and that’s only the front! Not too shabby for all one-handed driving if I have to say so myself!

I had to dodge several interesting mushrooms as I rode along:

I love this one because its veil (the part that covers the gills before the mushroom is fully open) is hanging like a pretty, frilly skirt around its stem.

We finally have some mushrooms coming up and I’ll be sharing some more photos of them with you tomorrow. Mushrooms are fascinating! Well, at least to me they are.

I hope you all enjoyed your ride!

This weekend Rick and I were pool rats. We spent more time in and around the pool that we ever have. The weekend weather was perfect for it: sunny blue skies, warm but not hot, and just a touch on the humid side. The pool temperature has been hovering between 82 and 84 this past week. Perfection!

After a trip to the farmer’s market in Warwick we came home with our purchases for our Sunday lunch. We had purchased two different kinds of lettuce, a Sicilian eggplant (very light purple in color, less bitter and no seeds!) and some fresh goat cheese. We sliced the eggplant thickly and cut a pocket in it, then put a round of goat cheese inside, drizzled the outside with olive oil and grilled it. A nice green salad rounded out our lunch. We ate poolside under the umbrella, sipping a cold glass of white wine.

After lunch we settled in on our lounges and just floated around letting the breeze blow us wherever it took us. We floated around in companionable silence. Once in awhile our lounges would ever so gently bump into the other, sending us off in different directions. Very relaxing. When we got hot we just rolled off our floats and swam a little; then back on the floats again to read. Before we knew it the afternoon was on the wane.

Nighttime swims are our favorite though. With tiki torches lit, the cicadas getting noisier every night, it just doesn’t get any better than this. In the following vid listen for Rick’s splash as he jumps in, then watch the reflection of the tiki torch as the waves distort it.

Ahhh ... wish you were here!

I’ve been tagged by Patsy over at The Best of Times to bore you with 8 more Random Things About Me. As if six weird things weren’t enough, you now get to know more. Oh joy. Where to start?

1.
Between the years of 1983 and 1993 we lived in Europe for seven and a half of those years. In southern Germany near Stüttgart [1983-1985]; the Netherlands just outside of Amsterdam [1989-1991]; and France near Lyon [1991-1993]. And no, it was not military related. Rick worked for Hewlett-Packard and we signed on as FSEs (foreign service employees) to work at those locations. It was enlightening, challenging, fun, at times lonely and frustrating, but I wouldn’t trade those years for anything. Since we were married in 1981 we were still newlyweds when we moved the first time, Europe molded and forged our marriage. It pretty much changed the way we eat, drink, and think forever.

I do speak a smattering of all three languages, but not fluent in any. It’s very humbling for an adult to have the vocabulary of a two-year-old. When I heard kids jabbering away in their native language I was envious. German is probably my strongest because I went to a language school during the day for several months. But as with most things in life; you use it or you lose it. I think it would come back if you plunked me down in any of those countries. Today Rick and I speak a mix of all three with each other, picking the best word or word we used most from each language and stringing them all together in the same sentence. It’s a language all our own.

Here is the house where we lived in France:

2.
I have a pen fetish. I buy pens right and left and am very particular about the way they write. If I buy them and don’t like them; I don’t use them. I have favorites and get upset when they finally run dry of ink.

3.
I talk to inanimate objects such as trees, flowers, mushrooms. You name it. I talk to my dogs and cats like they were children and perfectly able to understand what I’m saying to them and act on it. Most of the time I think they do understand exactly what I want—other times they haven’t a clue. Hey, maybe they aren’t too far off how a child would react! I also talk to the bears, chipmunks, squirrels, birds, butterflies and whatever other creatures turn up in my yard. I guess I’m pretty much certifiable.

4.
I was deathly afraid of bears for most of my life until I moved here and encountered them in my yard so frequently. Now I adore my bears. Go figure. I think it all started when we hiked up to my Father’s hunting camp in the Adirondacks and saw that a bear had clawed up the side of the camp. I don’t know why it had such an effect on me, but it did. Here is the photo to prove it. My Dad has me in his arms—you can just see my little leg and foot on his right hand side and my arm around his neck. That’s my sister inspecting the damage. Funny how some things stick with you for no reason.

5.
I had my own small “desktop publishing” business for a while. I mostly worked with printers doing all kinds of typesetting, designing business cards, brochures, forms (hated those!) and things like that. I have no formal training in graphic design but everyone seemed to love what I did for them. I also produced several newsletters—one while we lived in Amsterdam for all the FSEs in HP with travel tips, recipes, company news, etc., and the other was our dog club’s bi-monthly newsletter. I guess I just need a creative outlet and now I have my blog!

6.
I was born in New York state. When I was 12 we moved to Florida. Our house there was on a lake in which there dwelled an alligator. Allie the Alligator is what we called him. Original, weren’t we? Before we built the sea wall at the edge of our yard, Allie used to enjoy sunning himself in our yard. When we saw him on the other side of the lake we would clap our hands and call him (as if he knew his name—oh yeah). But the funny thing is—he did come—swimming towards us with his tail swiveling from side to side like a giant, warty snake. When he arrived we tossed him marshmallows. He was blind in one eye so you had to be considerate and toss the mallows on the sighted side. My Mother (dear woman) used to feed this beast chicken bones with a mere pair of serving tongs!!!! I kid you not; she really did this. Too bad we never captured this feat on film.

I wish I had a pic of him to share but all those old photos reside with my Mom. Maybe next time I’m up to fetch her I’ll look for one. And oh yes, my Mother still has all the appendages she was born with. [No, we won’t talk about her wits, but maybe—just maybe—I inherited her love of living dangerously with wildlife.]

Poor Allie ... his fate was sealed the day he happened to snap up a neighbor’s little poodle. Perhaps he thought it was a large marshmallow? Whatever his reason, he was promptly removed from our little community. So sad.

NO! I am not making this up. Just ask my sister. Maybe she’ll leave a comment ... [hint, hint]

Okay, I’m on a roll now. I sure hope I’m not boring you to bits.

7.
I used to play the organ. When I started I couldn’t even reach the pedals. It was not my choice. My parents made me do it. I had to do something. My first choice would have been ballet lessons. I begged and begged, but I don’t think they took me seriously. I mean look at me, could you?

My Mother doesn’t remember me wanting to take ballet. But then again, she doesn’t remember my learning to swim either.

My second choice was the piano. But no, my sister was taking piano lessons, therefore I could not. [My sister can’t swim either, does that figure into this? Sorry, you needed to read the linked blog entry above for that to make any sense.] My Dad was into playing the organ, so therefore I was delegated to take organ lessons. I had the same teacher my sister had for piano. Mrs. Loftberg; I remember her well and I also remember her lumpy daughter that took—of all things—ballet. She took them for the same reason that all girls of that era took ballet lessons—to make their clumsy butts look more graceful. Trust me; with her it was so not working. But, as usual I’ve gone down a different path than the one which I was following. Here I am at the organ:

I think I was having a bad hair day—look at those finger curls! And, hey Mom, did you put a bowl on my head to trim those bangs [fringe]?

Are you still with me? Still reading this epic

? Hang in there ... one more short one to go ...

8.
I learned to knit only three years ago. I taught myself from a book and then took some lessons. I wish I had learned years ago, but I didn’t. My Mother crochets but for some reason I never had the desire to learn. I know I should, but it looks too fussy to me. I love knitting and have met some absolutely wonderful people in the process. Knitters are just great people. No doubt about it. I am hooked. No, wait, that would be crochet. [hook-ed—get it?] Okay, I’m needled for life.

Thanks, Patsy, for tagging me. I learned a lot about myself through this process! And I guess that you too, dear readers, have as well although as I read back over my 8 more Random Things they sounded more like 8 more Weird Things. Oh well. C’est la vie!

You’re looking into and through the bottom of my glass just as I was finishing my Manhattan while in Manhattan yesterday evening. I’ve always wanted to do that and thanks to Reya who pointed us to a good spot not far from Penn Station. Yummy!

Yesterday we took the train in to New York City. We had tickets for the Michael Bublé concert at Radio City Music Hall. We find taking the train in frees us up from traffic, driving, and parking woes. I love being able to take advantage of public transportation. We were lucky as the train that was pulling into the station when we arrived turned out to be an express. Must nicer than the commuter that stops every ten minutes and crawls along like a large —and bumpy—slug. We decided to walk the short distance to our cocktail destination.

After sipping our Manhattans and sampling several dishes from the Tapas menu we were ready to make our way to the concert. Again, we opted to walk with the intention of hailing a cab when we got tired. We ended up walking all the way and although it was a bit warm and steamy, it was for the most part enjoyable.

That is until we got to Times Square. If you haven’t been there it’s ... well ... very neon and crowded with tourists. There was such a crush of people it was more like being borne along than merely walking, while all the time dodging people coming the other direction. Here is a mild example.

We made it through the crush of people to our destination:

We arrived just in time to find our seats and settle in before the curtain rose. Radio City is a beautiful venue for concert. Our seats were in the front row of the second mezzanine and we had a great view.

Michael Bublé was good but I liked it better when he sang his “crooner” songs than when he was singing something more contemporary. The band with him was superb and I think they outshone him just a little bit. He might be able to sing well, but he really can’t dance.There were about 3 numbers that both Rick and I thought were outstanding but the rest of the performance was just okay. He didn’t really wow us.

We were going to take a cab back to Penn Station but we weren’t having much luck; they all seemed to have passengers already. So, we walked. Ouch. I didn’t wear the right shoes and by this time had a few blisters popping up. When will I ever learn? We finally arrived home at 1:30 a.m. a little footsore and very tired, but happy with our night out. Whew! I think I am New-York-City-ed-out for now. We’ve been there twice in a month. Well ... maybe in a few weeks I’ll be ready to go back again ... some museums are calling my name ... or was it Tiffany’s?