Summer means "free"

Literally.

Look it up. Summer, as defined by Merriam and Webster (please slap me when next you see me for the crime committed by doing this in a public forum) is "free". Well, maybe not really. But it is "...the season between summer and autumn comprising in the northern hemisphere usually the months of June, July, and August or as reckoned astronomically extending from the June solstice to the September equinox." If that doesn't spell freedom to you, you must be...Canadian.

Actually, I love Canadians. I don't know many Canadians, but the few I do know, I have enjoyed quite immensely.

Especially Canadian accents. What is more satisfying in life than a full-blown Canadian accent, rambling on about a spider covering a weather camera? Little brings me more joy.

Except perhaps summer and its little mysteries. Maybe mystery is the wrong choice of wording. Perhaps intricacies. Tiny details. Summer is filled with tiny details that regularly take my breath away. The sweat rolling down faces as A/C unit after A/C unit craps out in the middle of July, one sad ice cream cone after another losing their top scoop to August's beating rays, spiders invading backyards in hoards with murdering intensity. Nothing says summer beauty like each of the events.

Ah! But what really made me smile while driving home just the other night was something like this: tall grass overflowing onto the country road, filled with lightning bugs. Driving just fast enough past the grass to only catch each flash in a glimpse but not so fast to blur. It was almost as though the grass was glittering.

Have you ever seen glittering grass? Because I have. And it is freeing. Go outside tonight to look at the glittering grass. I dare you.





Yay DOMA being ruled unconstitutional! :)

Refrigerator Escapades

Last night, I was perusing through the refrigerator to find toppings for ice cream (#generalizedstatementaboutpeopleeatingicecream) and found instead FIVE JARS OF PICKLE PRODUCTS. 4 jars of pickle spears/whole pickles, and 1 jar of relish.

I hate pickles.

Thankfully, this is not *my* refrigerator, therefore the contents of said kitchen appliance do not solely exist out of my choosing (there'd be far more hummus.) But, really, five jars of pickles? Do we really need that many pickles? I understand, there's dill pickles, sweet pickles, buttered pickles, pickled vegetables that are not cucumbers, spicy pickles, dill relish, sweet relish, kosher pickles, etc etc etc. But what does this all mean?! I am not a pickle connoisseur. I would not be able to tell you whether a pickle was dill or sweet. But five jars of pickles?

I also found a chocolate frog from Honeydukes. We visited the Wizarding World of Harry Potter back in April. That's not much less than a year ago now. That poor little frog, which was not made from the best quality chocolate, is just sitting in the back of the refrigerator, waiting to be freed, if not eaten. I can hear him crying from my room "I thought I was going to escape on the Hogwarts Express! I thought you would be like Harry and be too enthralled by the card to notice me sneaking away!" Wrong. Oh how wrong you were, Mr. Frog yielding a Gryffindor card. Luckily, the Helga Hufflepuff frog was put out of his pentagonal box misery not long after purchasing.

This therefore leads me to the conclusion that perhaps, in order to be noticed more, the chocolate frog should be pickled. A little vinegar never hurt anyone! Except I'm sure that the chemical compounds existing in vinegar would most certainly break up that little frog quite soon into immersion. Or would it? Acid...base...good thing I'm not majoring in anything science related! #loveliberalarts

Because It's New And I Can

Therefore I want to.

But what do I want to? Is it wanting to do something? Is it wanting to go somewhere? Is it wanting to eat something? It is wanting to say something? Does it have to do with doing a thing, or is it doing a person? Does it revolve around adopting a dog and grooming the dog to show and win many blue ribbons? What kind of dog would I adopt to do such competitions? Do dogs actually enjoy shows like this?

Imagine if we were dogs: your owner has suddenly decided that you should be washed, trimmed, and promenaded around in a circle. Does this make you feel of worth? Or is it it demeaning to your every being? Does it ruin every ounce of life that you live for? Does it make the cats greater beings than you? Do you enjoy walking with your tail up, exposing everything you hold private on your body to the world? Do you have no sense of pride? Or does the prancing about in the circle increase your sense of pride?

Or perhaps I am wanting to eat a brand new flavor of ice cream. Is it a chocolate base? Maybe it's a bizarre flavor of ice cream as my base, such as peanut butter, caramel, butter pecan (which should never be an ice cream flavor to begin with. Whoever thought that disgusting ice cream should be littered with pecans that have an unpleasant crunch and completely contradict all that ice cream stands for? Clearly the ice cream scientist in question has a cruel sense of humor.) Maybe I'm not wanting to eat a brand new flavor of ice cream at all, but rather invent a new flavor of ice cream. Does Edy's still offer the game online where you run a city solely operated on revenue from the ice cream factory? You had to make sure that the cartons for the ice cream were visually appealing, the ice cream was actually a decent flavor (obviously NOT butter pecan), and that the name was clever and pleasing to the ear.

Or it could be that what's new and I'm partaking in because I can is a new album being listened to for the first time.

This is far too simple.

And yet true. Andrew Bird. Break it Yourself.

It is love.