July 30: Seen on an Olympics commercial: “This summer, I just want to relax. Ok, relax and maybe run. But mostly relax. And run. And get back into swimming. So, relax — run — swim and I want to dance more. Relax. Run. Swim. Dance and hike to the top of a giant mountain. Ok, relax — run — swim — boogie — hike and get my black belt in Taekwondo. Wait: Are you still relaxing?” Um, yes. Day One of retirement: Today I’ll visit a Korean Spa; tomorrow I’ll indulge a bit of bubbly at dinner with a friend; on Sunday, a ballgame; on Monday, a facial and massage. Then Tuesday to the beach. Retirement is exhausting. (Giggle.)
July 31: In search of a new dog toy, Kevin’s friend allowed her German Shorthair Pointer to browse the tubs of balls and what-not obligingly placed by the pet store at snout level. Sniff, no. Sniff, no. A full aisle and a dozen tubs later, the pointer extracted The One — and immediately raced to the door. “Come on, Mommy, let’s play!” Kevin’s friend, meanwhile, tugged the leash and laughed with the cashier. Come on, Mommy, let’s pay.
August 1: My friend and I dashed from our seats twice during today’s Nationals game: once from a heavy rain and later from a scorching sun. Others, however, were settled more contentedly. Near us a six-year old boy sat cross-legged on a viewing platform, wearing a Nats tee shirt and cap and hugging a plush version of Screech, the Nationals’ eagle mascot. Screech, of course, had the best seat.
August 2: I rolled my head sideways on my pillow to gaze out the open window. The early morning breeze and cool air encouraged lounging. A sun-green cradle of rhododendron and azalea held a sparkling blue tourmaline. I couldn’t look away. It glittered more beautifully than any ring or brooch I’d ever seen. . . . It’s gone now; I’ve decided I don’t want to know whether it was sunlight on my neighbor’s car or just a retirement gift from the universe.
August 3: As I drove along a country road, I watched an open-sided tourist van approach the crossroads. Looking closer, I saw it wasn’t a tourist van: it was an old school bus, with three large openings cut on each side where the windows should be. And the riders weren’t tourists: they were watermelons.
August 4: Standing in the center of an O-shaped table, two chefs sautéd, plated and served six courses of exquisite Greek food. Twenty two diners (including our friends) ate, drank and celebrated Athens at sunset as their glass-topped “dining room” rotated slowly — and their feet dangled 165 in the air, thanks to the crane’s hook above and absolutely nothing below. Buckle up!
August 5: I spent the day contentedly tidying our house for company. Surprises: makings of a scrumptious salad from last weekend’s party; a gray mystery disc in the freezer (“surfboard wax”); a sweet summer quilt perfect for my niece; and weeds, but not too many. Then I launched into errands, culminating in a run to Island Creamery — just to confirm that their hot fudge sundae with Java Jolt ice cream was as yummy as I remembered. Yup. Company, we are ready for you!
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