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Posts tagged “summer

Just My Luck

I recently (last week) finished my 26th John Grisham book.  I love him.  He is my all-time favorite author and I get so enthralled with his story-telling that once I’m reading one of his books, it’s all I want to do.  I’m completely wrapped up in his tales.

A few weeks ago I zipped through two of his big hardcovers and when I was finished them both, I realized they were the last of Grisham’s that I had.  Ack!  I went through the list of books and thought I had read The Broker, but it turns out I had not.  So, I put a few people on the lookout for it.

The Broker

Two days later, I went on a Saturday adventure with BFF Spanky to a Community Yard Sale several towns over (one I don’t think I actually knew existed).  I told her the name of the book I was looking for, in case we happened to stumble upon a yard with books for sale.

The first yard we stopped at, Spanky veered to the right where there was baby gear set up (she nailed herself an outdoor playpen with a cover), and I veered to the left to a few tables set up with boxes on top.  Turns out, the boxes were full of books.  The very first box I looked in and the very first book I saw was John Grisham’s The Broker.  I kid you not.  The.very.first.book!!  Of course, I grabbed it…and paid my .30 cents and could not have been more elated!!  I did not buy another thing that day, I felt complete.

Of course, I plowed through that book too (I swear my TV has not been on in weeks!) and when I finished it in nearly record time, I once again felt sad because it was the last John Grisham book in my collection.  I picked up an biography and am nearly finished it, and yesterday I stopped at the book store and grabbed two new Grisham books.  Ahh, life is good again.



Tales from the Fog

Last weekend I got a hankerin’ to start my Halloween movie watching – albeit a little early.  With the coolness in the air last weekend, and now that the leaves are starting to change color and develop their crisp, Autumn scent, it seemed appropriate that my viewing  would come sooner this year.

My beau and I were talking about Stephen King’s Silver Bullet and, of course, that’s what I decided to spend a late, lazy Sunday afternoon watching.  After spending nearly all of my weekend working on my fitness biz, it was a perfect-ish way to relax for a few hours.


Total 80’s creepiness and fromage.  Oh-so-fromage.

And, as always, Silver Bullet did not let me down.  Corey Haim and Megan Follows are forever perfect as Jane and Marty, siblings dueling with each other, and with a werewolf – with a conscience.


Childhood horror heroes (and Anne of Green Gables, yo)

And, of course, we can’t forget Gary Busey.  I love that dude.  He is spazz-tastic.  Just say no to drugs, kids.


Um….caption this….anyone?

So, there I was, Sunday evening, watching Silver Bullet with not another thought to it.  A movie I’d seen a bunch of times before.  And all was well.

Then, Monday morning came.  Eaaarly Monday morning.  I’ve been teaching fitness classes in the park very early Monday mornings since the summer and as the summer came closer to ending, the later the sun has been rising.  And last week when I went out, not only was it pitch dark, it was foggy.  There was a thick rolling fog.  Perfect for a nervous Nelly….and werewolves.

As I’m waiting for my class participants to arrive, I’m sitting in my car, doors locked, of course, staring down over the park, trying to see through the thickness of the fog.  And texting my friend about the possibility of werewolf attacks.  She called me a fool and said there was no such thing as werewolves.


Don’t think I DON’T see you lurking there.  This was pretty much my view at  the park.  Pretty much.  😉

But, I’m pretty sure that the last person who got attacked by a werewolf was certain there was no such thing as werewolves.

Next up (hopefully):  Texas Chainsaw Massacre (the original!)



If there’s one thing I love in this crazy, busy, mixed up world, it’s a good book.
I love everything about them.  I love the way they feel, the texture, the smell – especially old, beat up novels with their eerie history.  I
It is my dream in life to have a huge parlor-like room with walls lined from floor to ceiling with books upon books upon books.

My friend Cheri has somewhat accomplished this dream.  I am forever envious.  

For as long as I can remember I have always wanted or needed a book on the go. Something to keep me occupied and keep my mind at work.  Something to comfort. Something to take me away from this place and experience an adventure inside my head.
I think my love affair with the written word started from birth!  I assume my mother read to me then.  And I can remember being very young and my mom always reading to us; me and my brother.  She would read us bedtime stories – shorts from Dr. Seuss to novels such as The Wizard of Oz, promising a new chapter the next night – and she would read to us while waiting for medical appointments.  And she would take us, countless times, to second-hand bookstores where would slink around quietly, and load up on books.
I remember getting hooked on Archie comics when I was 5 or 6.  Fumbling through each story (asking my mother over and over how to pronounce “Veronica”).  I couldn’t get enough of those short little stories.  Zip, zip, zip. And another book was finished.  Eventually I moved on to bigger books, although Cinderella was always my favorite, I needed more….I needed chapters!  And so the affair grew.  And it has continued to grow.
Years ago when I lived in the City I worked very late hours.  I would come home and read to (attempt to) unwind, instead, I would get wrapped up in a story that would take me into the early hours of the morning.  Lost Girls by Andrew Pyper was a book that I had wanted and was gifted to me by my spectacular sister-in-law.  That book kept my mind so busy late at night. It was scary as hell and kept me up with fear, yet I continued to read it.  I was enthralled.

When I injured my back several years ago and was down and out and barely able to walk, books kept me sane and busy.  And when I first started working out, books are what kept me going.  I’d jump on the elliptical with a novel and boom!  Just like that an hour (or sometimes two!) would be gone.

When I read, when I’m really involved in a story, something happens to me.  I’m transported to another place.  Page by page and chapter by chapter I find myself getting deeper into the world I’m reading about.  As if I’m there.  As if I’m the character. There are days when I want to do nothing but read because I’m so obsessed with the story.  That’s what happens when I read Grisham.  And it’s what’s happening now with the current book I’m reading (The Witch of Belladonna Bay by Suzanne Palmieri).  This book has enchanted me.  Like you wouldn’t believe.  I cannot get enough of it.

*sigh* My new best friend…my summer escape.

That was the same for me the first time I read Jaws and when I read Grisham’s The Rainmaker.  And last year, when I finally finished studying for my Nutrition exam, with Andrew Pyper’s The Guardians.  Those books enchanted me.  I read them all in just a matter of a few days.  Like those books, The Witch of Belladonna Bay is constantly on my mind.  It’s like it’s seeped into my soul.  All I want to do is sit in the sun or snuggle in my bed and get lost in this other world.  (Thankfully my BFF is on vacation this week so I’m able to read in the sun during my lunch break.  I’m such a dork!)
Maybe this quaint little story about witches is itself enchanted.  Who knows?  But it’s got me hooked.
I get so lost in these worlds it’s like I’m watching a movie – or living in it.  I’m a very vivid reader and the words become so picturesque and move along easily and colorfully.  It’s better than TV.  Television never calls to me like a good book does.
I have already zipped through 5 books since the start of this summer (I think that’s a record for me), and I can’t wait to start a new one.  The only thing, however, is that when I get really involved with a book – like I am right now – I’m always sad at the end…when it’s over.  When the adventure concludes.  There have been many books that have made me cry and many books that I’ve cried at the finality of the ending.  I find no shame in that.  I’m a sensitive being and when one becomes so involved in a story – whether it be real, written, or televised – there is no shame in feeling the sorrow in the loss of what seems to have become a good friend, or in the experience itself.
I’m looking forward to finishing TWOBB in the next day or so, but I have a feeling that I have become so wrapped up in, not only the words themselves, but in the emotion this story carries, that I will, at some point before its end, bawl like a baby.
And once that moment is over, I will move on to the next adventure and become enchanted all over again.

Where Are My Socks??

Each spring I pack up my socks…I roll them together and tuck the tops in and stuff them in my sock drawer.  In late fall when the weather starts to cool and I can no longer get away with wearing flip flops or open toed shoes, I begin the task of looking for my socks.  And each year I have the same outcome….no socks.  Where the EFF are my socks?  Does this happen to other people?  Is there a sock conspiracy?  Is there a bandit who sneaks in over the summer and rips me off of my footwear?

Socks? What socks??

This morning I was digging around in the drawer, desperate for a pair of socks to cover my tootsies (partly to keep warm and partly to prevent my new boots from ending up smelling like a bag of moldy cheese) and…nuthin’!  WTF?  WHERE are my socks???

The only pair of decent socks I could find are my gym socks and I didn’t want to wear those.  I came up with a (possibly) mis-matched pair of men’s socks and I I honestly don’t even know whose they are? (I’m assuming they belong to the man b/c sometimes I steal his…which them leaves the question: where are the socks I stole from him???).

I no see your socks…I swear.

I have no idea what’s going on with my socks but it looks like I’m going to have to purchase some new ones.  And I think when Spring arrives next year and the warm weather warrants sockless feet I may hide tracking devices in the socks that are being stowed away for a few seasons.



If You Can’t Beat ’em…..Join ’em.

So, although I realize that less than 2 weeks ago I was bitching about the end of summer and not being prepared for the coming of fall (https://welcometosandyland.wordpress.com/2012/08/29/summer-breeze-makes-me-feel-fine/), for some reason, my adventure this past weekend has sorta put me in the mood for autumn and I got in a kind of harvest-y mood.  So I figured I’d direct that energy into something useful:

I’m a sucker for glitter

….and now I can use my table for something other than holding my mail/keys/junk

I’m pretty impressed with myself for making my kitchen look so pretty this soon in the season BEFORE summer is even over.  (I’m trying not to cry.)





Summer Breeze, Makes Me Feel Fine

Today is one of those days that I don’t want to admit to.  It’s one of those gorgeous end of summer days when it feels a little more like *gasp* fall.

The sun is shining and it’s warm but there’s a cool wind breeze and it just doesn’t feel like August.  It’s totally a September day.

Other than the wind rustling the trees there’ve been a few other small details I’ve noted today that made me realize the summer is ending.

1) A few individual fallen leaves (and one pretty red one)

It’s not September yet

2) Acorns all over my yard

I slipped on these and darn near killed myself (maybe a slight exaggeration)


But then I look at the beautiful flower garden at the edge of my driveway and I realize that maybe there are still some glorious sunny days ahead.

Happiness in a garden

I’m still looking forward to taking advantage of any opportunities to sit in the sun and being outside and maybe even getting to the beach again.

I have an adventure planned for next weekend (which I am hoping to post about) so I refuse to believe that summer is over.  There’s still time left to enjoy.




The Street Dance

Dancing in the Street….duh!

When I was in elementary school, back in the 80’s, our towns hosted the Street Dance.  They were a blast!!  Especially to my pre-teenaged self.

Back in those days, in certain summer nights, the Town would shut down a certain street, turn up the music, and let us loose.

In school – striking a pose – preparing for the summer dance offs (that’s me in the yellow – awkward)

I remember huge crowds of people, mostly teenagers and youngin’s such as myself (and my best friend Jocelyn).

Jocelyn and me – Not street dancing but having fun nonetheless. xo

Our moms would stands on the side walks while we got Footloose and fancy free – attempting our Cyndi Lauper and pre-Vogue-Madonna moves.  It was clean, good natured fun.

We WISHED we were this cool

Eventually the events got moved to a mall parking lot but remained “the street dance.”

I don’t know if this type of thing still exists (and if it doesn’t, it totally should be resurrected!) in other communities, I know it doesn’t any longer in my communities.  (Tho several towns ’round these parts host outside movie nights.  Not quite the same thing, tho.)

I think my love of the street dance mostly stemmed from being so and sheltered and not having a lot any other girls to play with in my neighborhood (I was the only girl surrounded by a bunch of boys.  It sucked royally!) so getting out and acting like a kid AND a grown up with my best friend was so much fun.  I loved getting dressed up and rockin’ out my punky looks and just having fun.  Definite good times.

Always love my girls!

Does anyone have similar memories?