monday happy to you m’loves.

i am home and already swimming seamlessly with my fellow southern californian guppies.

school is out and it’s time to play.

i have many bull’s-eyes on my 2012 summer dart board, but my largest target is to take a little more time off, spend less hours priming and prepping for work {ie stressing}, and more minutes telling the people i love how i feel.

by the way, i love you dad.

and of course, any chance i can get to share a curb or stoop with my sweetheart, sucking down on something icy and fruity, or even just a snuggle on a street corner as we wait for the light to change…..i’ll take any one of those.

my favorite summer nights are the ones where hh and i hop on our beach cruisers, and bike down the street to our favorite mexican joint for fish tacos and buckets of chips and salsa.

i’m hoping for more of these wild-haired winded evenings, where it’s still warm enough after dinner to retrace our steps back to our favorite frozen yogurt shop, chocolate for him, tart for me, heath bar topping for both.

we’re not quite there yet, but giddy is the girl in me who hears the whispering serenade of an osillating fan, relieving its sweaty bodied recipients from a nasty afternoon swelter.

this summer i hope to stop and pay attention to moments like these: minute, easy to miss, but acutely potent to my feelings of gratitude. these little glimpses of beauty, flash by in seconds, at light speed, and then, they’re…….gone. i wan’t to stop missing out on the all the beauty.

this summer i hope to find my inner key west. that spot, maybe even in my backyard, perhaps somewhere farther away where men speak with accents and ladies carry parasols, where i’m more robust, less of a people pleaser, and my pen lassos marlins with my prose.

and this record never stops skipping: i will forever be seeking that midday, hot-summer, afternoon nap.

it’s an opiate whose fix can never quite satisfy my unending jones for complete and total dormancy.

i long for the days of a sea of crisp, white sheets tumbled to all four corners of a bed, the harmony of ceiling fans whirling above, mingled with the pulsating beats of flies losing their stalwart battle to bulwark screen doors, and the sweet spike of a lusty, orange blossom candle enveloping each room from upstairs to attic; the perfect serum for sleep when the pavement outside starts to smolder.

dressed in my vintage nightgowns, i’ve been sauntering the halls and stairways of the house, all norma desmond-like, waiting for this perfect napping opportunity to strike.

tell me m’loves, have you any summer check-off items you’re looking to accomplish?