Tag Archives: sunsets

last Sunday in July

It’s Monday, August 1. Yesterday was Sunday, July 31 – the last day of July. It’s always a bittersweet day. The first day of August means the month of August is here and it means school is coming, soon.

the sun sets, day is done
the sun sets, day is done

Back to school shopping, school supplies, a regular schedule, and wearing pants (soon) every day.

Yesterday I spent the day boating, reading, and cooking.

I’ve been reading Hamilton by Ron Chernow, but it’s not easy reading. I picked it up last fall and read the first two chapters before setting it down for something lighter. It’s full of facts and details that are interesting, incredibly interesting, but it is difficult to sit and read at the lake. I discovered Audible and have listened to several chapters while driving home and back this summer. I am at the point in the book where Hamilton’s affair with Maria Reynolds is revealed and his reputation takes a hit. ’Say No To This’. America’s first sex scandal.

I needed something lighter, easier to read so I picked up Dead Wake: The Last Crossing by the Lusitania by Erik Larson. I spent much of the afternoon and early evening reading. Despite the subject it is much a lighter topic and an easier read.

After dinner, I enjoyed B’s blueberry crisp. A perfectly sweet finish to the day and remembered I needed to cover the boat.

blueberry crisp, a book, and summer
blueberry crisp, a book, and summer

The sunset. Continue reading last Sunday in July

Weekly Photo Challenge – Summer Lovin’

Summer means so many things – it means sunny warm days, cool nights, road trips, family, swimming, boating, sleeping late, staying up long after dark, gentle rain showers, and campfires beside the lake wrapped in a beach towel to keep my back warm…. It also means keeping it short and sweet like a melted marshmallow with a chunk of chocolate on a graham cracker… I can even taste it….

summer_campfire
Making the Days Count, one day at a time, one summer memory at a time….

What summer memories do you have?

Today’s post is in response to the Daily Post’s Weekly Photo Challenge – prompt – at Word Press.  The week’s prompt is “Summer Lovin’.” This week, share a photo that says summer lovin’ to you. It might be a favorite pair of sandals you can’t bear to part with, the homemade salsa you made with veggies from your garden, the flowers you planted, or your family frolicking on the beach. If summer is on the way in your hemisphere, show us something hot hot hot: your homemade sriracha sauce, some friends shuckin’ and jivin’ on the dance floor, or even the furnace or boiler that heats your home.

Roadside beach

Sometimes you just have to pull over and take time and breathe.

“The best and most beautiful things in this world cannot be seen or even heard, but must be felt with the heart.” Helen Keller (1880-1968); Author, Lecturer, Activist

sunset, Lake Michigan - eastern shore, June 8, 2014

I was up north for the weekend. I drove north Friday night and came home, reluctantly, Sunday evening. Saturday was busy. It was full of chores and full of pulling in air, something I desperately needed. Saturday afternoon, I slow-cooked a pork butt on the grill and made my famous cucumber and red onion salad, at least it’s famous to me. It tastes like summer. I sliced off some pork slathering it with BBQ sauce Continue reading Roadside beach

Summer’s fading

chair crop
a slice of what is to come

Yesterday morning I awoke early, too early, around four thirty, it was dark, the kind of darkness that is complete except for the light that spills over into our yard from our neighbor’s security light. I looked out onto the lake and it was dark almost black it was such deep blue. The stars covered by a blanket of invisible clouds completed the late night and early morning darkness.

Ivy was up before me, in fact, she was the reason I was up as early as I was, she was concerned with something in the yard, her yard, and letting me know in her own way, loudly. I let her out and lay down on the couch to read, or try to read. After she had searched the yard, I let her inside and she jumped up and nested between my legs at the foot of the couch, rested her head on my calf, and fell back to sleep. It wasn’t long before I joined her and drifting off with the book open on my chest.

That was how my Friday morning began, slowly. Continue reading Summer’s fading