Just a Spittin'

Now that's it's officially summer for the commercial world, all things summer are starting to pop into my head. Food wise of course. Hamburgers on the grill, pasta salad, lemonade with fresh strawberries floating inside the condensating glass, raspberry french toast-just to name a few of my favorites... But of course the one I cannot escape is God's gift of hydration-the watermelon. Oh yeah buddy... Every summer I beg my mother to buy one-just one please. Sometimes I think she does it just to torture me, but I know she's not that cruel (I mean she's my mom, right?). So the other day when I returned home from work I found the luscious green giant awaiting for me on the counter. Just chillin' there as I felt that rush of excitement run through my body (that's right all because of a watermelon). But today, today I finally cut into that bad boy. I wedged my knife right in the middle and watched as the juices started escaping from its strong green imprisonment. It's pink flesh made me want to dive into its deliciousness. Every summer I cut up at least 2 watermelons and every time I end up eating at least an eighth of it before I'm done (which is why I always cut them up). But every time I'm standing there diving into this fruit, I can't help but to go back in time to when I was about 8. Barefoot (as I often am in the summer) with bleach blond hair, I'm sitting on the porch of a family friend's with my feet hanging off the side and swinging away. My best friend Grace is right beside me and we're laughing as we spit out those darn black seeds. Juices running down our arms and dripping off our elbows as the sounds of birds come from above and the laughter of our mothers come from through the screen door. Ahhh yes... Summer is here again, just as it promised last fall...

The War of the Ants...

I'm home for the summer now which means every bug and piece of dirt I have willingly left behind for the past year has come crawling back to me. Literally. I returned home to an infestation of ants. Oh yes. You know the ones I'm talking about. The really little ones that climb all over and in everything you left out on the counter. Yep. Hate them. This morning I woke up to get ready for work and took the dogs out before I did anything else. Fed them, got them water, gave them their pills, and all that jazz. The 2 big dogs stay out in the garage and Guido (my Jack Russell) eats his food inside. One would think that ants are more likely to go in their dishes because they're more exposed to the elements, right? Wrong. I walk inside to find his dish swarming with ants. And not only was his dish swarming with ants, but there was a whole line of them going from the wall to his dish looking like a busy interstate. So then not only did I have to clean it up, but as soon as I picked it up, I became their newest adventure. Not cool. I literally had ants in my pants. And my shirt. All within the first 10 minutes of my day. But I soon would have my revenge. I drowned all the ones still on his bowl, (sounds mean, but you would have done the same thing) and now that I was swarming with them, I began crushing them. One by one they fell. And one by one I showed them who had the upper hand. Literally.