Well, it’s been a crazy busy weekend, including Easter, Cesare Chavez Day, and my parents’ 69th anniversary. And if my lovely father were still here, he would be savoring a nicely chilled martini this evening. Tito’s please, two olives, and very light on the vermouth. And like most red-blooded sports fans, he would currently be obsessed with the wild and wacky world of college basketball, also known as March Madness.
I know I always say that Fall is my favorite season, but that’s usually in October. That’s when Halloween comes rolling around and all the ghouls and goblins creep sneak out from the city’s darkest corners. Then every year I say that Winter is my favorite season, but that’s when Christmas rolls around, and my heart gets all sweet and mushy for baking, tree decorating, and family gatherings.
Good evening peeps, and a very Happy New Year to you all! I hope your holiday, however you celebrated it, was joyous and lovely. If it was like mine, it was full of chocolate, cinnamon rolls, eggs benedict, bubbly, and my cousin Lori’s amazing Finnish cardamom loaf. YUM. It was also full of old Christmas music LPs (Barbara Streisand, Glen Campbell, and Nat King Cole). It was a weird, but amazing get-together for my family this year.
Okay, I’ll admit it, I get really sappy this time of year. Call it melancholy, nostalgia, or maybe just an incurable case of the saddies. I miss all my late relatives, the family get togethers, the cocktails, the loud conversations, and the three-hour marathons opening presents. It took us so long to unwrap packages, we were forced to take a happy hour break in between.
Boo! Did I scare you? Did you jump a little? Well, my friends, by the time you read this, Halloween will be done and gone, taking all its ghouls and goblins with it. Children will have taken to the spooky streets on All Hallows Eve with plastic pumpkin buckets and paper sacks, weighed down with all kinds of scary sweets and treats. The dream team of Barbie and Ken will rollerblade through the sidewalks, wreaking havoc on unsuspecting ghosts, their sheets spinning like a whirling dervish.
It’s finally fall, folks, and that’s always a time for reflection. So pull up a chair and warm your chilly fingers with a hot pumpkin spice beverage, butter a slice of pumpkin spice bread, and light up a pumpkin spice candle for that whole freaking fall effect. Breathe it in. Suck up the aroma. Remember, you only get this one time of the year.
The other morning, I woke up at 3:00 a.m. and felt a strange sensation moving over my jammies. It was cool and billowy, and it made me shiver. For the first time in months, I had to pull the covers over my stubbly, unshaven legs. Suddenly, I realized there was a breeze coming through the window, and it WASN’T 97 degrees. It wasn’t muggy or sticky or swampy in the least. And then it dawned on me; an old friend had come to visit. Well, not yet, but he was certainly packing his bags and making airline reservations.
Well, here we are, my dears, already crossing the unbearable border of July into the unforgiving wasteland of August. The sun shoots down sweltering bolts of flaming fingers, wrapping themselves around you and holding tight like a crazed hand from Hell. Not enough sunscreen can be slathered on, no big hats are floppy enough, and that gigantic glass of iced tea cannot be cold enough.
Holy underwear, Batman, it is HOT today! We are officially in July, and it feels like a volcano has exploded and we are drowning in crimson red lava. It’s 110 right now, and yup, that’s what it feels like. As opposed to when the weather person says it’s 97 degrees outside but it FEELS like 93. What the heck? C’mon now, do you take us for a bunch of fools? Nice try, you talking heads, but if you think that kind of mind-bending works on us long-time Valley residents, you are sorely mistaken.
Howdy there, strangers, how the heck are you? It’s been a minute since I’ve written because last month was wacky. It appears my Golden Girls roommate is seriously trying to keep me on my toes because she can’t seem to stay on hers. During a lovely Easter visit with some friends, my mom slipped and fell in the bathroom. Ugh, again? Just as Dot was finally recovering from her Thanksgiving spill, we were starting all over again.
