Posts Tagged ‘summer’

Over 100 degrees again today and Zephyr refused to come indoors near the AC. He spent his day prostrate on the garage concrete floor. Time for a little hose action! Zephyr loves to play in the hose.

Look at that face?  A moment of complete happiness. We grab then wherever and whenever we can. ❤

d, xo

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What are you doing in the corn, or do I want to know?

Remember: when gardening with pets–dogs, cats, hamsters, bunnies, chickens & ducks too!

Be careful to avoid pesticides and garden chemicals, especially snail bait. Animals will eat ANYTHING–and lick the ground or plants where sprays have landed. These chemicals can be highly toxic and you might not always notice their effects right away.

Play and garden safely with your pets. 🙂

d and the dogs.

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The weatherman predicted 90+ degrees today and it’s only four days into May. All that concrete in the backyard heats up quickly. The more plants, the more shade, the better.

I love market umbrellas. They’re so fun, like a big tent. I feel like I’m hiding in a tree fort. Plus, they add an instant uplift to the yard, even our car park turned urban garden.

I do what I can. 🙂

Thinking of a house-warming gift? Market umbrellas.  This one was only $29 at Raleys. 🙂

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Dad and I met for coffee this morning. It was the first really sunny day in what felt like weeks. I knew he would show in shorts. Do I know my dad or what?

No one takes a sunny day with more happiness than dad. The man lives for summer: mountain hiking , chips, salsa & beer by the pool.  Apparently, he has retired his Birkenstocks, but he’s a beach guy at heart.

Go dad. 🙂

d, xo

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Recently I was talking to someone about finding blue potatoes, then right away I found this mix at the store–not blue, but purple!  

I cut the purple tubers open & couldn’t believe the color! They were dripping purple!

Am cooking them now. Will I have purple mashed potatoes? It feels a little like food from Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory.  Now I want to plant some. Will they grow purple plants too? Wonders.


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It’s summer. I was tired of looking at the misty autumn river scene on my banner. So I edited in my favorite view in the whole world. It’s a bit grainy, but I don’t mind.

The pier on the left is our family pier. It’s fairly new, 10 years or so. My grandfather built the original sometime in the 30s. It weathered a good long life, then got traded up for steel pylons. No more walking from wood hand post to wood hand post. Now it’s a clean, straight walk to the end. A balancing act if vertigo is an issue, especially at cocktail hour.

The whole view w/my kayak

The whole view w/my kayak

I miss the old pier. It smelled like fish and bait and suntan oil. It had history. Still, the new pier works.  Eventually, it will assume the summer odor appropriate to all beach cabins. It will take on the patina of dropped ice cream cones, Popsicles, clam dip, wine, sodas, lotion that have baked in the sun crusted with sand.

I don’t get enough time looking at this real view anymore. The family has grown, everyone wants their time there. And who could blame them. Look at that view!

I was blessed to grow up on the other side of this grand lake, way up on a mountain over looking the lake from what seemed like a  far distance. Really, it was only a mile, if that. Still, nothing was like driving the miles around the lake to spend time at the cabin. It is the only family home I have left. It is the only place that still holds onto my childhood, no matter how long I have been away. I walk out on the beach and down the pier and I am a kid all over again. “Welcome home,” it calls. “Thank you,” I say. A hundred, blessed thank yous.

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The world is freaking me out today. The simmering triple digit heat has left Sacramento feeling edgy, jagged and hostile. It’s May and this is way too early for  July weather. It’s best to ease into summer, one digit at a time, instead it  feels like an intersection collision.

Triple digits have become a trigger. I relate it always to Shadow and that dreadful summer where we laid together on the wood floor beneath the whining window AC. Two weeks of heat that would not relent below 100 and more often rose to 114 degrees. The living room became small, suffocating. I draped sheets over the stairwell and wet towels over Shadow.  He was in so much pain by then. Time has never moved so slowly.

Now, when the sky feels like it’s on fire,  those days come back  in a viscious flood. Life was measured in teaspoons then. They were the worst–and the most important–days of our lives. And then Shadow’s life was over before he could feel the coolness again.  I wanted to go with him, but I had to stay behind.


So, this weekend has been all about haulting encrouching demons,  staying  present, remembering  that it is just heat,  just weather and it will pass. It’s difficult. I don’t want to live here anymore. I hate summer. 

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I’ve been up since 7am. For me that is EARLY. Normally, I am so good at crawling back under the covers, blocking out the day, hiding until I need coffee. But since I’ve been “working” on my Etsy shops, I’m anxious to get up and get busy.

It’s odd, really, maybe like the flu it will pass. We’ll see.

I went thrifting yesterday. Check these out:

 Ruby Slipper

I’m selling them, of course ( dahlilafound. etsy) but who wouldn’t want just one night in these? They need a ballroom, of course. And an organza gown, a man in tux, the works. (sorry, the photo isn’t cropped. I have to go do that photo magic still. *blush*)

I haven’t been dancing in over two months and it’s rather sad. Last Fall that’s all I thought about–tango–until I injured  my knees–plural.

Now, I’ve lost that passionate desire, like losing a lover, truly. I mourned for weeks, then gave in and left it. Now, dancing feels awkward and forced. The wrong partner, the wrong music, the wrong me.  Maybe, with spring or summer. Last year we danced and danced then ran outside onto the city street to find a breeze. Yes, tango is summer.

Anyway, these shoes need a lovely, if not tall, dancer. (they’re a size 11!)I hope whoever she is she finds them and waltzes the men into circles.

Coffee time, d.

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