* I woke up early this morning worried about my blogging friends. Even though I’ve been absent, I think of you guys. So I got out of bed at the crack to check blogs and see w’assup. My husband was all, “what are YOU doing up?” A summer sighting before 9am is concerning to him — or another opportunity to mock my summer hours. Either way, Dear, you’re welcome for making coffee.
* Lately, my summer indulgence is reruns of “Sex and the City.” As soon as everyone goes to bed, I creep downstairs and curl up with HBO on Demand. Now older, I fully appreciate Mr. Big. When I was in my thirties, I did not get the Big deal. Now I like, love the guy.
* I’m interested in summer reading recommendations. I just started “Little Bee” based on an urgent text to “run, not walk, to the bookstore to get this book.” Anyone? Any others I must read?
* Last week, my husband and I rented the miniseries “John Adams.” Run, do not walk, to the store to get this one. Utterly absorbing and provocative. In fact, the other night, I was up late Googling Thomas Jefferson. I think Thomas Jefferson was hot. I might have to plan a trip to Monticello next summer — just to snoop around a bit. Anyone with gossip on TJ, please deposit here. Tom is now my Mr. Big.
Anyway, in the second half of the series, John Adams gets old. And his aging is well depicted – right down to his nasty, black teeth and spotty face. In his old age, people he loves die first. My husband and I were both speechless with the same realization: We, too, are headed into the latter half. Someone will be going first.
* And so age has been on my mind. Then yesterday, I took a few photos of some hosta blossoms. I was trying to be more aware, do more of that “live in the present” stuff.
Afterall, it’s summer — and at present, things are not too bad, my friends.