Sunday, July 24, 2011

sublime sweet Sunday

Sunday morning, in a state of extreme bliss - the heat has broken, the rain has left the air fresh and new, there's a sweet breeze, and it smells so delicious out there - of rain, mint, basil, lavender, life - that I'm paralyzed with pleasure. Except for my fingers, pattering on these new black keys.

Chuck arrived yesterday morning, and because he had set things up so well, with my computing life stored in the Time Machine, all he had to do to transfer everything was click a few buttons. Now the new girl is fully loaded and I'm learning to use her - things are a little different and much faster. And spiffier and more stylish. Poor MacZine's touchpad is completely broken; she can only be used with an external mouse. But I'm keeping her, just in case. You never know.

Then beautiful W*yson came over with a writing student who needed guidance and a consultation, and stayed on in the air-conditioned cool, the two of us side by side with our MacBook Pro's, comparing notes. He has of course customized his with sayings and stickers. My friend will be away for the entire month of August, and I miss him already.

In the evening, to Annie and Jim's for dinner with friends - trout barbecued on a cedar plank, tasting as if it had come from a First Nations smokehouse - and then a walk down to the Beaches Jazz Festival. What a fantastic event - Queen St. shut down and bouncy music on every corner. And then it rained; some bands kept going but most sheltered their instruments, and the music stopped. We went to other Beach friends to sit on their front porch and eat raspberry/blueberry shortcake with lots of whipped cream.

The summer is flying by and days disappear. Today there is absolutely nothing on my calendar, except sitting around sniffing the air, tapping on the silver machine, talking to family and friends, gardening, walking, cooking - oh yes, listening to Eleanor Wachtel at 3, maybe a jogette, three library books to read, not to mention the classics I want to tackle this summer, "Madame Bovary" and "The Great Gatsby," neither of which, I'm ashamed to say, I've yet read.

So - already, the day is beyond full. I'd better get cracking.


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