We keep expecting summer to happen in southern California. So far this summer we've had more days that feel like winter than feel like summer. This makes me worried for the fall, when I start to wax poetic about crisp sunny days, cool evenings, apple pie and candy corn. Sometimes September and October in sunny SoCal can be scorchingly hot. I hope that the cool start to this summer doesn't portend a long, hot fall. I just couldn't take it. The cool days have done nothing to diminish my pleasure of enjoying my little patch of the out of doors. I've planted tomatoes (we have four ripening on the vine), some peppers (the current count is at five), and basil (we're having Caprese salad for dinner). I've also planted some rosemary and lavender just because I love the smell of it in the air. We've got a chaise lounge and a chair back there. All that we needed was a place for grillin'. We solved that problem on Friday night when we brought home a 'Smokey Joe.' It's a little mini-Weber grill. It looks exactly like the full grown ones -- only it's just a baby. Last night we kicked off our chillin' and grillin' season with a tri-tip. Tonight we're doing marinated chicken. All we need now is a good sangria recipe and we're all set for the summer.
Thursday, June 9, 2011
This new TV commercial purports to be 'for cats only' and it features a crazy cat lady (at least she's crazier than I am. How do I know. She speaks 'Cattish.' Ahem. Enuf said. )I'm not sure this is working for me. Can I get a show of paws if it's working for the cats?
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Sunday, June 5, 2011
I did buy a bike. And it was gorgeous! Lavender and sleek with a beautiful comfy black seat. I rode up and down the bike paths for one day and the bike developed a clunk. So the next day we took it to a bike shop. I paid $10 for a nice young heavily tattoo-ed guy to tighten the chain. Took it out the next day and the chain fell off. I had to escort my bike home for a half-mile. Walking a bike is so much less joyous than riding a bike. I got the chain back on --- but I couldn't get rid of the clunk. And it kept getting louder. So we took it to another bike shop where a nice man in bike pants (Why God? Why?) told me that my bike was "The Clunker." It was a cheap bike from Target and it would probably always clunk. I would have to learn to accept it. I was unable to accept this diagnosis, so we went to another bike shop. Another nice young man told me the same thing. You get what you pay for. So, with a heavy heart, we took the bike back to Target. There was a brief bit of drama when the girl behind the counter said that they don't take bikes on return. But the manager changed her mind, and all was well. I left my beautiful bike behind and went home. I still had the bike helmet. But I looked pretty silly in it when I was riding my bike. How silly was I going to look just hanging out around the house in a bike helmet. I was a bit heartbroken. I had gotten attached to that bike. Like a young girl gets attached to a pony. But after some online research, we headed back out again and found a beautiful bike with a price tag that was twice as big as the first. Sold! It rides like a dream. This time I have the endorsement of the bike shop guys. "That's a nice bike," they all say. I took it out for its maiden voyage on Sunday. My shoe lace got caught in the gears -- I went ass over teakettle and ended up in a heap on the bike path. The bike came through it nearly unscathed. I skinned my knee. I look like a middle-aged six year old with a band-aid on my knee. But now with my cool bike in the garage and an official case of road rash on my knee, I can go to sleep at night comfortable in the knowledge that I'm a real biker chick now.