Knowing me and how serious I insist on being, you no doubt assumed that image to the left was a metaphor for…umm…the evanescent nature of all good things, or, maybe, the messiness but essential sweetness of life.
But, dear reader, the truth is far simpler. Today has brought together so many of summer’s pleasures, there’s nothing left to do but list them. First I went to camp–reading camp, that is, the Cleveland branch of www.readingcamprocks.org The kids had just come back from rafting–lots of sunburned noses– but happily sat down in the lodge (I love that word) to do some terrific writing with me. Of course I forgot my camera, but photos got taken and I’ll share when I get them.
Then Paul and I ate Lake Erie perch and walleye in a wonderful, shack-y place on the Grand River. From the menu: Did you know that Lake Erie is the natural outlet for the Niagara River, so most of that water cascading over the falls is from here? Neither did I and I still kind of doubt it. Afterwards we walked the beach, where children were chasing balls or digging epic trenches or refusing to get out of the water or hosing their sandy feet in the ice cold shower–an eternal scene. I was right back on the Long Island beaches of my childhood, scenes of my happiest kid memories.
One last treat: a chocolate-vanilla swirl from the Kurly Kone. Riding home we rolled down the windows, and all I needed was the Beach Boys on the radio. (My very first date was on a night just like this one. I wore a dress I made myself and yellow Capezios. But that’s another story).