Blue Yonder

Where Have We Been?

Sorry for the way this little blog has languished this week, friends. We've been a bit lazy... taking some very much needed R&R time. 

What have we been doing with our time? Hmmmm.... soaking in each other, and the rain, sipping lemonade and reading. That's about it really.  

Yep, you read that right... blessed, blessed rain. 

Do you know those time-lapse videos of the desert blooming after a rain? That's just how we felt when the thundered rolled and at long last big fat drops fell down....  quenched, and alive. You could almost hear the world around us taking a long deep drink. 

Yesterday, at 11 AM, the temperature was 75. SEVENTY FIVE!!!! 

We heard angels sing, I swear it. 

It's set to be back over 100 today, and everyday for the foreseeable future, but just that small break has made us feel like we might just make it. 

We saw UP! yesterday. Its crazy how much it costs to take your kids to a show these days. It was a monumental treat for us. I'm glad we went though. The movie was really sweet. All about how stuff is just stuff and love, real love, the kind between two people who have been married along time, is the best kind of adventure there is. See it. You won't be sorry. 

Other than that, we've spent a lot of time lounging about reading books. My oldest is into the Henry Huggins books these days. The middle kid has become a big Roald Dahl fan (he's reading "The Witches" at the moment). I'm reading "The Prince and the Pauper" to them aloud, and getting lost in "O Pioneers" after they've gone to bed at night. It's kind of an odd mix right? Works for us though... call it escapism if you will, but it's getting us through these long hot days. 

What are you up to these days? Reading anything good? Got a recipe for a cool drink you want to share? We're all ears!

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There's a bit of Book of Days news over at the Ranch today. 

Down To The River

My boy is back!

He was happy, full of good stories about camp, but also really ready to come home. What more could one ask? I'll admit it... I was sort of nervous that we'd get there and he'd ask to stay longer. I'm going to choose to believe that it was his dear mother that had him ready to come home, and not the fact that he was SO looking forward to air conditioning and showers made just for one. 

We spent our Saturday baking bread and cookies, cleaning up, unpacking (oh the laundry!) and more or less lounging in our pajamas most of the day. By Sunday we were rested and ready for adventure, so we headed to the lake (which is really the Colorado River). 

This particular body of water is fantastic on a summer day because it is fed from the bottom of a dam. It stays VERY cold no matter the weather. 

Usually, we visit "our" lake during the week when it's like a ghost town, so at first I was rather put off by the multitudes of weekenders. 

Add to that the fact that I forgot my camera (the muddied photos here are from my phone) and the plates for our picnic, and we got off to a rough start. 

But when I settled in on my blanket with my book (My Antonia - so so good!), looking up between paragraphs to see all of my men splashing in the water, all together again, it was like exhaling. 

In the end, it was kind of nice, the ragtag band of souls come down to the river for respite. 

In the air was the smell of cigar smoke, charcoal and cooking meat. There was Tejano music and teenage boys bobbing their heads in time. Their contrived nonchalance was a show for the whispering, giggling girls who gave them sideways glances. 

There was a father, taking seriously his post at the grill and a grandfather looking over his shoulder in obvious skepticism over his son's ability to produce an edible dinner. 

There was a pink-cheeked baby asleep, mouth open, on a towel beneath a grandmother who fanned herself with a Reader's Digest. 

In the lake a young papa reassured a tearful, reluctant swimmer in pink arm floaties. Her mother waved a bottle of sunscreen at them and called out a familiar reproach in an unfamiliar tongue. 

Sparkling ripples circled a man who stood shoulder deep and pushed his lady along. She lay stretched on an air mattress. He dribbled water from his finger tips onto her stomach until she opened her eyes and gave him a smile that made me look away. 

The cicadas sang overhead, their songs mingling with the sound of boat motors, the laughter of my children, muffled conversations and contentment. 

On this day, summer doesn't seem like an oppressor. On this day summer is a timeless, hazy, coconut-scented dream. 

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You can read all about cicadas, the official minstrels of summer, today at 

The Magnifying Glass. 

The Happy Post

... in which I say nothing at all about the fact that I think I actually heard my skin sizzle yesterday... 

So what's making me happy these days???

1. I get to go pick up my boy from camp this evening. I'm going to try, really I am, not to embarrass the livin' crud out of him by swooping him up and crying and slobbering all over him. I'm going to soak in all his stories and then I'm going to tell him that I'm so glad he had a memorable time because he's never, EVER going to camp again. No, not ever. Scratch college from the list too. Nope. Not going. 

2. The little campers that stayed home. First the middle boy spent the night at the cousin's house, then the cousins came here while boy number three had his first sleepover at Grandmother's house. 

(He was even MORE full of swagger than usual over his big sleepover-ness. I think he rather enjoyed being the center of attention and  having the mac and cheese all to himself.)

THEN two of mine + one cousin were HERE for a sleepover. Oh my. There was Pokemon trading (I don't even try to understand this), a visit to the Children's museum, popcorn and ice cream, late movies, a water park, tree climbing, a cicada skin hunt and oh so much more. Camp Goofball (as they named it) was a raging success, evidenced by some very happy but very tired campers. 

3. This cake that we had last night to celebrate my Dad's birtday. I love you Dad, Happy Birthday. And... Ms. Paula, I am your devoted follower. No one can work a stick of butter and a pound of cream cheese the way that you can. No one. 

4.

Two young lepidopterists, a whole country apart, finding wonder in the same very brightly colored winged thing. This is a Rosy Maple Moth. My butterfly and moth enthusiast was beside himself over it. He had been staring at it for some time in his Golden Guide to Butterflies and Moths and hoping to one day see one. So it was a very exciting day indeed when one fluttered into his life. As it turns out, sweet Dawn's little lady had her own brush with yellow and pink greatness. 

And now, we're off to have lunch with yet more cousins and then make a big whoppin' "Welcome Home Brother" sign. 

I hope your weekend if full of reasons to be happy too!

But Look How Tan We Are!

I'm going to talk about something else from now on okay? 

Promise. I'm just going to throw my last little kicking and screaming fit and then I'm going to draw myself up like any good southern woman should. 

I will be a steel magnolia. 

I will glisten (as opposed to my current state of sweating like a sow). 

I will glow (rather than puddle). 

You know, when I was little, and I was whining about some toy or something that I thought I desperately needed lest I die, my dad would say, "honey, people in hell want ice water."

Well I'm here to tell you that no... no they don't. 

They want out of hell. 

Just sayin. 

Alright, I've said my peace. We must now face and endure what we cannot change, right? 

Come back to tomorrow and I will move this blog back to the sunny  

happy side of the street. 

No really. Pinky swear. 

Mousse On the Loose

Between bouts of whining and fanning ourselves, the boys and I have been keeping cool by imagining that we could escape to a faraway, make-believe land where summer temperatures average in the 70s. 

Oh wait... that's not a fairy tale, there really IS such a magical place. Perhaps you've heard of it? A little place called Maine? (Is it just me, or has the hellish heat made me snarky? I mean snarkier than usual. Is snarkier a word? Whatever.)

Anyhow, while poring over a Maine guide, we discovered Lenny, the famous life-sized chocolate moose. And I thought MOUSSE! Cool, creamy, doesn't-require-me-to-turn-on-the-dreaded-oven, chocolate-y and did I mention COOL?

Mmmmmm. Mousse and margaritas. I may survive this heat after all. 

In the case that you too find yourself on a slow boat to hell, and are dreaming of a cool escape, try mousse! Here's the recipe we used (adapted from this one) : 

In a bowl, combine a cup of semi sweet chocolate chips and 1/3 cup water. Microwave for 30 seconds to melt. Stir. If it needs a little more time to melt, give it another 15 seconds or so. Now leave it on the counter to cool. 

Beat 2 cups of heavy whipping cream until peaks appear (I don't know if they're stiff peaks or soft peaks or twin peaks or what... just whip it until it looks like Cool Whip, okay? Or you know what? Just use Cool Whip). Add in 1/3 cup of powdered sugar (or skip that if you're using the Cool Whip). Put this in the fridge to stay nice and cold while the chocolate cools to room temperature.

Using a slow beater, mix the chocolate and whipped cream. Pour into cups (or just straight into  your mouth). Put the cups into the fridge until the mousse has set up. 

Now listen, no matter how heat weary you are, remember that you have to actually close the refrigerator door. You can't just stand there with it open or your mother will yell at you and your mousse won't ever set. Of course if you ARE the mother you can open the door far more times than necessary under the pretense that you're "just checking on the mousse." 

Try not to actually crawl into the fridge though. It's just not ladylike.

Now grab a spoon and take a bite. Close your eyes and dream of falling mercury. 

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Read more about our imaginary trip to Maine at the Ranch.