summer senses.

dinner is bubbling on the stove. i am eating mexican food for the second night in a row. last night, jeremy and i went to a birthday party catered by Nashville staple Baja Burrito. we enjoyed conversation with some rarely-seen friends in a beautiful backyard on a balmy summer evening. an unseen bullfrog croaked in a pond at the edge of a small gazebo draped with white sheeting. we guzzled cold beer and munched on chips, and saved room for a slice of melt-in-your-mouth cake which i ate with my fingers because the forks had run out. after four days of solo parenting, i really needed a night out with the hub. it was good to laugh, connect with old friends, and get better acquainted with some new ones.

tonight jeremy has ventured just beyond the state's edge for some work in Bowling Green, Kentucky. two friends stopped by this afternoon for a blink-long visit, after which i fed Eli his dinner of miniature meatballs, mac-n-cheese, avocado slices, sweet peas with butter, and in an attempt to pack some extra pounds on his slim frame, bananas smeared with Nutella for dessert. he ate well, then rinsed his chocolate-covered fingers in the bathtub, filling plastic cups with warm water. he requested two story-books and nestled down for bed.


i took a small goblet of Smoking Loon Shiraz to the front porch and settled down on the old wooden swing against a pillow. After swatting myself free of a few invasive wasps darting past our potted rosemary toward my head, i took in the sounds. distant dog yelps, tweetery cardinals nesting in our Rose of Sharon bush, a train chugging by, rustling wind in the trees. these are the moments when i miss the city least. i glanced toward two front yards trimmed with white picket fencing and ahead toward the last embers of sunlight glistening against a swing set across the road.


then into the kitchen for chicken tacos with home-blended seasoning, fresh avocado and sweet grape tomatoes. Bob Costas murmured on TV from the Olympic swimming trials. for some odd reason i find the sounds of the Olympics comforting...the buzz of the crowd, the hypnotic voices of commentators, a lingering sense of triumph.

now, an annoying fly keeps whizzing past my head. we seem to have an abundance of flies in-house these days; i swat at them with kitchen towels. Ants too, little stingless ones marching in line across the oily wooden countertops. we smoosh at them with our fingertips and wish them away.

the house is mostly quiet now...just awaiting the sound of car tires rolling up the gravel drive against the moonlight. all is well.