Happy 4th of July!

part 2 . . .

Backyard oasis

That's what I'm talking about  .  .  .  

RAIN

Truthfully, it has been a very long time since I prayed for rain. I mean really prayed, on bended knee, for relief from the heat and lack of precipitation. Now I'm not trying to exaggerate our condition; thankfully no drought is forecasted and we aren't plagued by wildfires.    [ As a brief note, I have friends in Colorado and my heart goes out to them for the extreme losses many of their neighbors are facing. I can not imagine what it is like to flee with only what you can carry, to outrun a fire  .  .  .  our prayers are with you!]     But I will say that the heat and lack of rain has been down right oppressive lately. So while I was supposed to be listening to the sermon yesterday, I drifted off for a few moments into my what if  zone  .  .  .  it's that place in my imagination where anything is possible. I won't bore you with the grey-matter surrounding my epiphany (yes I'm using that word because after all, I did have this idea come to me in the pew at the 11:00 service!) yet I will say that I ended up on an enthusiastic search for a way to stay cool.

Last summer, as you may remember, the Group Therapy founding club members experienced the trip of a lifetime by journeying to the tropical paradise known as Cabo San Lucas, Mexico. We knew no one, so we were less inhibited about our swimwear as we would be at say our local country club or rec. center pool. Don't panic, no thongs were worn (cringe), but we did sport two-piece bathing suits baring stomachs, just as we used to in our earlier sunbathing days (amazing what a little tequila will do for one's courage and self esteem). Our motto: brown fat looks better than white fat any day of the week! Please don't get the wrong idea, we were still southern 50 year olds and for the most part, acted our age  .  .  .  but we did feel a little provocative in our two-pieces. I guess the joke was on us!

As my dearly departed husband used to comment, just as I was moving from one tangent to another, while trying to tell one of my stories, "alright already, please get to the punch-line, I'm going to have another birthday before you finish this one!"  .  .  .  okay, okay, I'm getting there!

My excursion after church led me to several discount stores in search of that thing-that-I-would-know-once-I-saw-it solution to the heat, when I came across what I thought was the ticket! A small, "easy set up" above ground pool. (No pumps or filters required.) Eight feet in diameter, thirty inches high, perfect for one person to float in, in the privacy of her own backyard  .  .  .  Only takes 10-30 minutes to set up your very own backyard pool for summertime fun  .  .  .  wasn't this what I had been searching for? [As another aside, I did in fact install a much bigger version of one of these durable plastic inventions many years ago, so my familiarity pushed me over the edge, or ledge depending on your point of view, to buy this promise of cool-down in a box]  I pictured myself floating in my backyard at lunchtime, wearing my Cabo two-piece in totally privacy. People would say, "how do you keep that golden tan in this heat" and I would answer, "just lucky I guess" in perfect Carrie fashion. Could I really have a tan for the rest of the summer like I did before I got too old to tolerate the heat? And I wouldn't have to feel self conscious about the way I looked because no one would see me. Admittedly, I was getting a little ahead of myself. But it was HOT! 

Fast forward to two hours later, and several hundred gallons of water (can't wait to see my water bill next month  .  .  .  so much for the pool being on sale for a mere $30), I'm standing next to my own backyard solution to several days of triple digit temperatures. And I'm grinning from ear to ear! I rush in to get a towel, not bothering to change into a swimsuit. Grab my book and something cold to drink and realize that the blue sky has faded to a pale grey and it's sprinkling. Only a few drops, hardly enough to get anything wet, but just in case, I run back in for the umbrella; don't want to ruin my book. Carefully I step into the water (remember it's not even three feet deep) and lower myself onto the new float I also purchased. My shorts get wet but who cares, right. As I float blissfully I notice that the drops are falling harder and more frequent. I haven't opened my eyes yet, too busy congratulating myself on a job well-down. Then, as we say in the south, the bottom dropped out and it started raining cats and dogs.  Picture me on my float, in a flash summer thunderstorm. My bliss faded as quickly as the clouds had rolled in. The next reel that plays in my head is: "Tragedy strikes suburbia today when local woman is struck by lightning in her baby pool, details at 10!" S@#t!  I scramble out of the pool, lucky not to break my 50 year old neck and seek shelter. When I think the storm has passed, I get soaked again trying to put the cover on my little oasis (too funny how a $30 bargain will end up costing me a lot more) determined to keep the dream alive. It wasn't supposed to rain, much less storm. There's always tomorrow! 

It's still raining  .  .  .  NO COMPLAINTS because we REALLY, REALLY need the moisture, so my little backyard pool will just have to wait. Maybe Samantha and Charlotte can come over and we can take turns pretending we are back in Cabo. Not quite the Sky Infinity Pool, but it should be perfect for little ole me!

Sky Infinity Pool, Cabo San Lucas, Mexico

Too Funny, backyard,  Easy Set Pool

No comparison  .  .  .  

saturday night . . .

Do you remember Saturday nights when you were in your 20's? Truthfully, most of the details of that chunk of experience are dull, distant memories that I just don't have the energy to pull up at the moment. Why, you ask? Because it is still over 100º at 8:01 PM and I' feel like I have been having nonstop hot flashes for the last 48 hours. (this heat-wave has withered more than my impatience; it is killing my will to do anything except stay inside and drink a glass [or two] of wine)  I realize that the alcohol is probably contributing to my internal combustion, but there is only so much one can give up! It humbles me to admit it, but between this heat-wave and menopause, drinking my wine is the only part of the day that is stress free  .  .  .  Group Therapy all by myself! 

Back to my 20's  .  .  .  I do remember those years being full of fun. I remember not worrying about laundry or nutrition, or anything really  .  .  .  I just had to report to work on time, pay my bills on time, obey the speed limit and use good judgement when on a date or out with friends. There was no yard work or home repairs or real responsibility of any kind beyond yours truly. Youth really is wasted on the young. They (we) have (had) NO FREAKING IDEA how good they (we) had it! Just typing those words makes me a little green with envy. What am I doing on this warm (sweltering) June evening? Am I trying to decide which restaurant or hip new club to visit tonight? Am looking in my closet for the perfect outfit I want to show off? Am I sipping on a glass of wine before my date (or boyfriend) arrives for a fun-filled evening? NO  .  .  .  I'm sitting at my dining room table, surrounded by the groceries that I still haven't put away from my late afternoon trip to our local Publix; after stepping on kitty litter that the kitten has managed to spread all over the floor; then remembering the pile of laundry that I have to fold before I retire for the night  .  .  .  yet, in spite of it all, I am sipping a glass of red wine while I type this post.  I sigh with the heaviness of all that I am responsible for and I must admit that even with all that I still have to do and in my un-showered state, I am so very happy to be in my home, typing away, truly enjoying what has become my norm. I am thrilled to eat whatever I want to because my sixteen year old is out with friends, watch whatever I want to because all the TVs belong to me most weekend nights (and frankly, all summer long) and do whatever it is that I need or choose to do on this Saturday evening. Ain't life grand!

I will leave you with a picture that wasn't taken too many years ago; a picture of me (Carrie), Samantha and Charlotte, at a fundraiser that was near and dear to our hearts. I think we had more energy back then. I know we had fewer wrinkles and no hot flashes! We were just old enough to appreciate all that we had been blessed with  .  .  .  namely, our deep and enduring friendship. Here's to Group Therapy any night of the week!

Life-long Friends!

 Until next time  .  .  .  

too funny exchange

I must admit that being funny isn't always easy. In this BLOG, we always try to make you laugh, particularly about events that happen to our little group or other folks who are our age. But every once in a while, we will pass along too funny stories from other places. This post is dedicated to a good friend of Group Therapy, a person who writes for a living  .  .  .  we have featured her books and her BLOG before. Her latest post is priceless! Take a minute to follow this link and become a follower. Her humor is contagious. Thanks Mel!

Death by Vacuum Cleaner

To be continued  .  .  .