Today I'm granting myself a hall pass from noodling over this note for too long.  Instead, I'm giving myself time to lie back and watch the clouds.  My brain isn't going anywhere more complex than sorting laundry.   I do have a small token of affection for you - a permission slip to do the same.

Permission to take your foot off the gas for a spell.  Isn't that what summer is all about anyway?  We have a solid six weeks of summer stretching out before us, like planks on a dock.    My seasonal soundtrack sings of iced tea, peach picking, beach reads and lawn chairs.   Or Adirondack chairs. Or beach chairs.   Each note carries the same message:  Slow down and just be.   Be exactly where you are.   In that moment fully.

What are you giving yourself permission to do this summer?  READ MORE

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Oh beautiful for spacious skies, for amber waves of grain
For purple mountain majesty, above the fruited P*L*A*I*NNNN ...

America America God shed his grace on thee
And crown thy good with brotherhood
From sea to shining sea

How was your fourth?   It's unlike me to not lean heavily into any holiday, let alone our wonderful nation's 250th.  I can barely type the words to America the Beautiful* without shedding a tear.  Those words have always turned on the faucet for me, even before we sung it at my father's memorial service.   And I've already decided that we'll be singing it at mine some day too.

Yet over the last few weeks, I've been so busy running from place to place, I've barely had time to noodle over how to wear the stars and stripes and favorite ways to serve hot dogs and watermelon - which are secretly two of my favorite foods.  (If you're craving a deeper dive into what the Fourth of July means to me, you'll find it here).

My fourth was actually a different kind of red white & blue -  I returned in the wee hours of July 3rd from Brittany.  READ MORE

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Last week was a whirlwind, a big joyful one.  I slept in five beds over eight days.  The road trip kicked off with my 40th college reunion in NH - although it almost didn't.  A week ago Friday, I awoke to a text that my flight to Boston was so badly delayed that I'd miss my connection to Hanover.  Cue the mad scramble (the crazy fun Scots clearly invaded Boston for their World Cup match because there wasn't a single seat left into Logan).   Somehow, by changing both my departure and arrival airports, I still made it on time.  Highlights included seeing the sailing team's luxurious new boathouse (imagine a world class yacht club dropped onto the shoreline of our modest Lake Mascoma), and racing in the new fleet of 420s.  It was super windy and I was one puff away from backing out - I even asked the coach, "Sending a bunch of 60+ year olds out in 14 foot boats with gusts up to 20 knots?  What could possibly go wrong?"  (I'm in the yellow life jacket in boat 12 above).   It was an absolute blast and I felt like I was 20 again (in mind, not body).  I'm not sure which took a bigger toll on my abs - hiking out to keep the boat (mostly) flat, or the three days of ginormous belly laughs.   If you have a reunion coming up - you should definitely go.

From there, I road tripped down to the Cape with my friend Tracey, then caught the ferry to Martha's Vineyard, and on Wednesday ferried over to Nantucket, pointing out to anyone who feigned listening, "Isn't it a beautiful day for a ferry ride?"   READ MORE

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