I have finished my book. Rudi has washed the dishes. The cats are restlessly prowling, hoping I will fill food dishes and play with laser pointers. I will and I will brush my teeth, too.
And then I think I will attempt to combat my actual, physical tiredness by going to bed and sleeping straight through for six whole hours. It’ll be tough, but sometimes you just have to take the medicine instead of looking elsewhere for a remedy.
I meant to post this last week, on the actual anniversary, but I lost track of the days and only this morning recalled that I had missed the date. Also, apologies for the quality of the pictures. I found them rather late in the game and, rather than dig out the scanner, I opted to photograph them, and the quality suffered.
Twenty years ago this month, Grey Kitten and I attended my senior prom.
I don’t remember asking him, but it was probably a driveway question. The fact that I don’t remember it suggests that he did not make me wait long before he said yes. [Thank you for that, GK, because the boy I asked to my junior prom said no, albeit kindly and quickly. Karen took pity on me (thanks, Kare!) and went on a consolation date with me to the movies, after which she swore she would never see another action film with me again. She has not broken that promise, although, to my recollection, I have never asked her to.]
Finding the right dress took far longer than finding the right date. I know a number of girls who waited to find escorts until after they found their outfit. I was about to type that I didn’t care that much about fashion, but my mother reads this blog and she would tell you that searching for a prom dress with me was a miserable experience for both of us — and I only took her on a third of the excursions! Ultimately, the dress was found, but not in my size. The shop made some adjustments, but not enough, and Mum and Gramma had to pull it apart and put it back together again. Twenty years later, I cannot begin to fathom how much work that must have been. Thank you, Mum.
I remember walking around the grounds when we got there. I remember getting our official portrait taken, with the awkward hand placement that accompanies such shots. There must have been some pre-dinner mingling, because I have pictures of my friends in their dresses. Our table was served dinner on the early side of the room, and neither Grey Kitten nor I were big eaters at that time, so when the music started, I assume to create ambiance during the meal, we looked at each other, got up, and hit the dance floor — the first and, for a long time, the only couple out there. And while I do recall sitting down at least once, I think we spent most of the evening dancing.
It was a perfect night.
And because my classmates were wiser than I, Bon Jovi’s “Livin’ on a Prayer” was not our prom theme. Instead, it was Dan Hill’s “Sometimes when We Touch,” a classic of light pop radio:
So whenever I hear it, I get to relive a fairy-tale evening, now long enough ago to qualify as “once upon a time.”
Following close on the heels of the traditional summer kick-off weekend, this week’s Ten on Tuesday topic asks for 10 Goals for This Summer:
Eat breakfast outside more often. I tend to get a slow start on weekends, so it seems like a natural antidote to that would be to pack my thermos of tea and a breakfasty food item up to the park. Once I’ve left the house, it’s much easier to stay out, even if I do have to stop home once in a while.
Prepare more salads. This will require finding a reliable protein source for Rudi — chickpeas might be an option. They appear in my favorite pre-made lunch salad.
Ride 25 miles on the bike with minimal stoppage. I can bike home from the ballpark without having to stop and rest my legs, but that’s just about five miles. As I really only like to bike to destinations (work, a ball game, a snack), I should pick someplace 25 miles away to go see. Of course, then I’d have to get home from someplace 25 miles away… Does that mean I’ll need to be able to bike 50 miles in a day? Getting to this goal may require some more thought.
Engage in icy treats. I have failed in my plans to make popsicles the past two weekends, but that’s clearly because I was waiting to be able to add them to this list. I also was given an ice cream maker this winter, so I’d like to make some homemade ice cream. I have already worked some daiquiri-making magic, but can you ever have too many strawberry daiquiris in a summer?
Get to the beach at least once a month.
Go camping.
Finish my Ravelympics and Tour de France knitting projects on time, whatever they may be.
Hone my bubble-blowing skills. I used to be able to blow bubbles inside bubbles with some ease. I am out of practice, but did pull it off a couple times Saturday night. After all, who doesn’t need to add that kind of skill to her resume?
Bring laughter to strangers (and friends).
Defy gravity.
What’s on your summer goals list? I look forward to reading about them, be they vague or specific, selfish or selfless, personal or public.
Memorial Day weekend kicks off the beginning of the summer season, and the weather is clearly well-aware with high temperatures expected to be in the 90s.
In between trying to remain cool, I plan to:
Finish the Mosaica socks. The last round of Sock Madness starts in the morning. I bought more white yarn, as it was clear I was going to run out in the home stretch.
Read The Enchantress, which came out on Tuesday. I am so looking forward to this series finale. I may well take my signed copy of the book, a thermos of tea, and our camping hammock up to the park and read it beneath a tree. [As a side note, if Michael Scott does a reading anywhere near where you live, I suggest going. He is my favorite author to see in person — and it is not, as he suggested, because of the lilt. It’s because he really takes the time to listen to the questions the kids ask him and thoughtfully considers his answer to each one. And when he runs out of time to answer them publicly, he makes sure that kids know they’re welcome to come up and ask him while he signs books.]
Have a picnic with John and Nicole, who arrived home from Albany too late tonight for our planned excursion to the Yards.
Pick more strawberries and peas at the garden.
Go swimming. The pools open for the year tomorrow.
Make popsicles. I didn’t get around to my planned trial last weekend.
Attend a barbecue. Megan has proposed one on Monday, and I hope to cross the Potomac in pursuit of fake meat cooked over a contained fire.
Go to a movie. There are several to choose from.
Do a few chores: laundry, change the sheets, put away the winter clothes (the summer ones got taken care of last weekend).
Drink strawberry daiquiris. Because isn’t that what summer is all about?
I’m trying to keep this weekend a little less ambitious than the last few in an effort to find a bit more sleep.
I’m hoping to:
See a baseball game with Sarah and Rudi. (Already done!)
Catch an art exhibit before it closes. (Also done! Pictures to follow this weekend!)
Pick strawberries in the garden. Water the plot. Also weed, as necessary.
Go to the library. I could do with a few more books, and a couple are ready to head back.
Check out D.C.’s big Greek festival. We’ve been meaning to go since we moved down here. I’m dragging Rudi over there after he gets out of work tomorrow.
Finish my Mosaica socks. I’m nearly through the gusset increases. I’d like to complete them before Sock Madness wraps up for the year.
Switch out my winter and summer clothes. Right now they’re all in a big pile on the couch.
Make popsicles. I have the book. I have the molds. World Summer domination is next.
Sit outside in the sun.
Watch the season finale of Sherlock. (Does anyone else think it odd we’ve hit Reichenbach Falls so early in the show’s run?)
A last-minute invitation to join Susan, Phillip, and Holden for dinner.
A repeat viewing of the Sherlock season premiere — this time with less interference from traffic blotting out the clever lines and plot points.
Knitting — a pair of Rudi’s socks made some serious progress.
Reading — Scumble has sucked me in.
Chores, but too few.
Gardening — the first strawberries have been harvested, there’s a solitary pod amongst my pea flowers and two tomatoes growing on the low-light plant, and the dozen plants we purchased last weekend were jammed into the plot. The lack of progress among spinach and lettuce varieties remains puzzling.
A trip to Estonia seems appealing.
Farmers market — morels and strawberries and potatoes are the highlights.
A 12-mile bike trip (longest of the season!) along the C&O Canal. No ducklings or deer this trip, but lots of turtles and five families of geese with a total of 22 goslings.
Cupcakes.
Calls home.
A dance party in Dupont Circle — hula hoopers and urban dancers whose breakdancing and African dance skills would have tickled the heart of Lydia Grant.
