When I think of summer I think of riding my bike in flip flops, or maybe bare feet. Summer is when my skin turns brown; the hair on my arms golden, barely there. It’s the season of no comb. Summer is the sound of boats racing in the harbor down the street. It’s the cross breeze cooling things down around five and the sky staying lit past eight while kids zoom by on their skateboards until the very last minute.…
I’m basically sucking at writing here twice a week so thought I’d check in and update. Chris and I are on Kauai. All we’re doing is flopping down on the beach, snorkeling (him), stuffing our pie holes with chocolate covered macadamia nuts (me), and lying in people’s bushes taking pictures of cats (also me). Oh, and drinking Mai Tai’s (both of us). Our friends (o’hana) are here, too. They are from Kauai originally so there’s some good Hawaiiana being shared.…
Chris hates Instagram. I mean hates it with the fire of a thousand dragons. He puts up with it for me. After my stroke I became really particular about having pictures; pictures of the day-to-day, the mundane, the yes I do need another one of me and the cats. Losing your memory and fighting to get it back will do that to a person. You don’t want to forget anything. Instagram became a great tool. Last year when we were in Big Sur, Chris scrolled through the general feed…
If you want to depress yourself, try on a bathing suit. If you really want to depress yourself, try on a bathing suit after 40. For as long as I can remember, as soon as spring hit I went into summer bikini mode. Lunging around the house, avoiding carbs, making friends with workout videos – all those things got put on the high priority list. Last week in the midst of my meltdown, I managed to get inside myself and…