Let's have a look at this font. Not too bad. We'll go with it this time. How do you like the green? Well, it's still Summer and things are still greenish. August has yet to burn the lawns of SS brown and crispy, and there are still some blossoms on the flowering plants. Warm nights are still to be enjoyed on the deck with a cold beverage in your sticky little hand, and the artificial stars twinkling under the umbrella can cover for any that are missing in the late summer fog.
I notice the doors don't shut all the way without an additional shove these days. That old dampness is creeping into every molecule of the woodwork causing things to fit poorly, and the cabinet doors are unable to make a solid connection with the little magnetic latches. Dog days of summer, eh? The dogs wish for a cooler time, so maybe they should call these the 'cat days of summer'. The cats seem to enjoy just lying around in whatever sunny spot they can find, and soak up the heat. I've always heard it was mad dogs and Englishmen who stayed out in the noonday sun. The cats haven't heard that one yet, I guess.
I look around and wonder if I'm going to get everything done before it turns cold this Fall. So much to do, and so many Coronas to keep from spoiling. That's a nearly unresolvable conflict. I may need to recruit some assistance on one end or the other of that deal.
All is well in SS. There have been many good times and a couple of bad ones, but by and large the boat just keeps chugging along. Summer concerts are all in our wake, with only one for Ash at the Great New York State Exposition (State Fair) yet to go.
Ash, Dylan, and Lindsay have spent most of their holiday from school at camp. Overnights and day camps have been blended to save only time for a little trip here and there with the families, with emphasis on beaches and water parks. It makes us think of when we were kids and only worried about our next pleasure, eh? They need these times, and too soon they are only memories, recalled in quiet hours with their own children and grandchildren.
I hear a hammock calling me, and a chilled 'Rita' is whispering "don't forget me", as the clock heads into mid afternoon. The umbrella is drying from this morning's shower, the deck will soon be ready for me to kick back, and it's my day off so why the hell not!
If you thought there would be some deep thoughts in the old North of Disorder blog this month, you're doubtless disappointed, but hang in there. I promise to think once again when September comes.
Arrrrrrrr!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
