fry day

there's still four more days until summer officially begins, but things around here are not slacking in their sizzle.  i do mean that metaphorically as well as literally.  

we live in florida, and south florida at that- a mere smidge above the steamy swampy everglades.  i'm talking about a land of full body soaking humidity come june and the three months thereafter.  we floridians view it as the comparable alternative to northern winters:  most days are spent inside with windows closed, and we make mad dashes to our cars only to frantically crank the circulation of the preferred temperature from the air vents.  and it's only the applicable state of H2O that has the capability to draw us outside to play.  the simple difference is that we summer floridians can brave our elements without spending a half an hour putting on extra layers of clothes, just extra layers of SPF.  never-the-less, the sizzle of summer has already arrived.  

so in the heat of our current moments, we are flaring up our schedules with the fun that goes hand in hand with summer:  poolside barbecues where the sound of the kids' laughter is most likely heard several blocks away, lazy afternoons at the beach where the biggest decision is whether to leave before or after the sun sets over the gulf waters, post dinner escapades because there's still another few hours until dark, impromptu sleepovers, and the list goes on.  

i am indeed enjoying my summer already.....one sweet sip at a time.  photo by kelle hampton.

 

 

 

 

   

yet, amidst all these festivities, i rarely fail to notice the little things, the little sparks that pull me through these toddler years. i'm talking about the things that i absolutely have to write down because even though at the moment i swear i'll never forget, i know i will.  things like, when coming across a new display of peach and mango lemonade at the grocery store, my three year old son spontaneously lifts his left leg to the side, bends his torso and tucks in his elbows then begins hopping around on his right leg, all the while chanting a celebratory tune.  the resulting performance sent me bursting into laughter because it was most definitely the closest thing to a human counterpart of a peeing dog stance.  i could have very well become completely mortified and obligated to encourage him to tone it down just a little (because let's face it, this is naples), but i chose to relish the moment and i'm so glad i did.  or, like when my dangerously close to being potty trained two year old daughter flashes through the house wearing only a hat and a cape, and my son yells, "super nudie" then joins in.  yea, these are the things i'm talking about.  

but here's the thing that has stuck with me this week above all else.  we are currently in the dirty depths of buying a car and as any well minded consumer does, we have clocked hours researching every possible car that would suit our needs by scouring safety reports and car specs.  and above everything else, this little phrase has stuck to my mind like glue...firstly because i find it hilarious, but secondly because the more i thought about it, it precisely defines a gift that we are given.  

in the chart that lists the convenience items that the car has to offer, the first item listed....i kid you not...was "driver seat included." seriously?  they really had to point that one out?  and, they consider that a convenience?  what are we supposed to do, kneel at the wheel?  or maybe that's the designated commission of the previously mentioned dog pee dance?   

but in a different light, yes, it is a position of distinction that is, in fact a convenience which we all dreamed of when we were kids and had little say in the matter...a full circle from the feeling we had when we were told "no" and we swore we couldn't wait to grow up and be able to do things how we wanted.  being in the driver's seat is not only bestowed to anyone who finds themselves in a parental role, even if it's only to a pet fish, but it's an intangible certificate earned upon turning eighteen.  

you are absolutely, positively, without a doubt in the driver's seat of your life.  a convenience?  yes.  because you no longer have to wait for the permission of someone else in order to live your life.  if there's a job you want, go after it.  pick up the phone.  show up at the office.  give them a firm handshake implying that what you have is what they need.  if there's a beloved relationship on the rocks, be the one to build a bridge to more secure ground.  if you're wandering around in the wilderness waiting for a flashing sign to drop down from the sky telling you the way to guaranteed success, open your eyes and floor it to the nearest open door at top speed, because that flashing sign stuff is back seat thinking, baby.  and just like in vegas, flashing signs appear the brightest at night...in our minds....that's where dreams are formed.  but when the break of day hits, it's up to you to remember the feeling of the glam and put the pedal to the metal because you won't get anywhere unless you start by going somewhere.  that, my friend, is the convenience of having a driver's seat.    

"If everything comes your way, 

you are in the wrong lane." 

~Author Unknown

a simple experiment

june has spurred a 30 day challenge:  run every day.  for anyone who knows me, this was not my idea.  i am not an athlete, i don't like to exercise and i hardly can ever do the same thing for 3 days straight, much less 30.  so, a challenge it is indeed.  

now don't go thinking i'll come out of this ready for my first marathon...or even a fun 5k, because i rest firmly on my idiosyncrasy that i absolutely, positively, hands down DO NOT like to be seen when i run.  i really don't know why.  it's just a thing. which is why i have been enjoying most of my daily jaunts post sunset.  it's like i have the liberty to listen to my own self and do what i feel is within me instead of pushing it a little too hard because i don't want the person driving past me in the car to see me stop.  it also allows me to shed the mom mask that i harness all day and unleash the suppressed dancer within; for i have secretly enjoyed busting out a running leap with an exuberant punch to the moonlit sky, spontaneously inspired by an interjection of a timely ooooh! in a classic michael jackson jingle.  but, even when i am running at my own pace, creating my own stride, i have discovered a pattern that unfortunately also applies to other things in my life.  it's about the finish line.  

i don't like to finish books.  i hardly stay awake long enough to see the final credits of a movie.  my house is mostly clean...except for the last few things in a pile that need to be put away.  i don't know why, but i do not like endings.  endings either leave me forlorn about the approaching finish and therefore longing for more, or they give me a false sense of weariness merely because the job is almost done and therefore i must feel like i'm tired.  for example, when i run the loop in my neighborhood, it is 2.8 miles.  not quite a 5k, so i'm comfortable with that.  it's still a stretch for me, and i begin my habitual huff and puff just as the final street light comes in view.  it's that last 20 yards that kill me.  so, i decided to test my theory.  

the last time i ran, i trekked down and back every single cul-de-sac on my loop, adding what i thought might be a half a mile.  my prediction was that my huffing and puffing would come premature to seeing that final street light, and that i would have to walk the last half mile, say, because my body can handle 2.8 miles and that's it.  well, i got lost in my music, and only remembered that i needed to start huffing and puffing when my triggering street light came into view.  isn't that stupid?  it's not a distance thing.  it's a mental thing.  to validate my observation, i tracked my distance when i got home and found out i had just cranked out four whole miles like it was nothing.  well, i sure showed that street light!  


so, my conclusion is that when i know the finish line is approaching, i automatically pull back.  sometimes it's because i don't want the adventure to end, and sometimes it's because surely my valiant efforts leave me obligated to feel overwhelmed with exhaustion.  this applies a vast span of operations in my life as well, from a simple entity such as laundry to as complex of a phenomenon such as planning for my future.  could it be a fear that when the comfort of my current, cozy and familiar motion comes to an end, i will ultimately have to face a new challenge?  don't be confused, though, i'm crazy about new beginnings, and am always ready for the start of a new adventure, but for whatever reason, when a green light in my life begins to take on an amber glow, i have no problem coming to a complete stop.  

"you have a choice. you can throw in the towel, or you can use it to wipe the sweat off of your face."  -gatorade

houston, we have planted

today, i come with two surprises.  first, i have pictures of our inaugural family project, and second, i have pictures!  i'm talking up to date, hot off the press pictures.  that means i found a little free spot on my nearly full computer in which to upload them, and then figured out how to incorporate them into a post.  the family project took four hours, and uploading and finding my pictures to post took almost that long.  be amazed.  

so, our project was more fun than a barrel of monkeys....or a whole barrel of monkeys showed up to help us.  either and both are applicable.  hands and feet were emerging from every possible angle wanting to get in on the digging action, or the planting action, or the whatever-it-was-at-the-moment action.   we didn't really know what to expect with our premiere gardening attempt, and that played to our advantage because we simply let the anticipation of the final project lead us on.  

we dug up old stubborn roots, planted new delicate roots, mulched and watered.  it was a project i'd repeat over and over again!    

"Many things grow in the garden that were never planted there." 

-Thomas Fuller, 1732