(The quilt I made in my quilting class in May. Behind it: the corn we have our fingers crossed will actually produce edible ears.)
I'm writing this on my porch, a little after noon. For the last few weeks, the idea of doing anything on my porch past, say, 9 A.M. has seemed out of the realm of possibility. Hot, is what I'm saying. Dang hot.
But today it is a miraculous 76 degrees. How did that happen? Do we have some nice, Canadian breezes to thank? I'm thankful to whatever brought this change in the weather about. Because when it's near 100 degrees by noon everyday, you don't want to move, and it's a crapshoot whether or not you even want to breathe.
So we had a nice time at the beach. It was hot there, too, but being near the ocean makes the heat almost bearable. I have to say, I got a little bored by the middle of week, and next year we're talking about breaking our long tradition of going to Sunset Beach and switching over to the Outer Banks, where it's cooler and there's stuff to do. Stuff that doesn't attract frat boys, but is fun nonetheless.
I'm sort of waiting for my summer mojo to kick in. I have lots of plans, but this week have been mostly cleaning and puttering. I need to make lists. I'm working on a new quilt and planning on a oral history project with my mother-in-law. Initially, my idea was to interview her about her cooking life--she is an amazing Southern cook, and in particular I'd like to talk to her about her potato salad and deviled eggs--but now my scope has widened. My in-laws come from Gaston County, NC, and both of them worked in the cotton mills growing up, as did most of the folks in their families. I think it would be interesting to get that part of my MIL's history recorded, and I think it would be good for Jack and Will to know about.
But, like most summers, my main objective is survival. This will call for lots of tomato sandwiches and banana pudding and magazine reading. If you have any other suggestions for making it through the long, hot days, send them my way.