I was decribing different accents to mac and he started trying to imitate my fairly bad australian, but it sounded more like a pirate. Then he morphed into doing full on pirate talk, but sounded more like a 30s movie gangster. "Yeah, yeah, so shiver me timbers, kid."

My dreams lately have included vampires, ghosts, and zombies. No idea what's got into me lately.

sorry, javachik. It's hard.

Went to the market late, since it was POURING at 8 am. 2 pints yellow tomatoes, pickling cukes, apricots, mehly plums, empanadas and spinach. Wanted cherries, but I was a buck short.

We had the rain all last night -- I guess it moved south? Heat broke, though -- it's maybe 75 right now and absolutely gorgeous.

I'm sorry, java.

javachik, I'm sorry.

Brenda, I hate nights like that with the freaky dreams.

Ha, I have apparently discovered the secret to making myself the most desirable man on earth: reminding someone that they've flaked out on previous attempts to meet up and declaring that I'm not wasting any more of my time.

Ah, the "you can't have it, so now you want it" syndrome.

Summer memories:

Directing the thin wheel of the ten speed JUST right into the rut by the sidewalk that led down to the pool and zooming down it smoothly.

Laying on the hot, wet concrete, cheek on the damp towel, heat burning up through it, eyes closed, smelling Coppertone oil, listening to Eddy Grant's "Electric Avenue" on the radio for the 100th time that day.

Skinning up the rough bark of the tree on the hill on a hot, still day until I got to the taller branches, where I could -- carefully -- navigate from one skinny branch to the next tree.

Wrapped in my comforter with one side of cotton that felt like silk, the other side velveteen, in my damp swimsuit, in front of Duran Duran singing "Rio" on MTV, eating Prego pizza in the AC with my sister, on a quick lunch break from the pool.

Summer memories:

Exhaust pipe burns on the inside of one calf from riding on the back of my junior high crush's moped.

Epic kickball games with all the neighborhood kids. Running for the ice cream truck.

In high school, day trips to Point Pleasant Beach in one of the girls' rattling VW Bugs, turning over on our towels every half hour when the guy on the radio told us to.

When we lived in England, we used to take road trips in the summer across Britain. They're my only specific summer memories...in Jamaica I never really dwelt on the seasons.

I loved the excursions. We did Wales, the Lake District, Scotland, random cathedrals. Lots of car reading, and I do remember driving my parents batty when I decided to memorise and recite out loud all the hobbit poetry from Tolkien.

Thank dog for no carsickness on British roads (I still get queasy in Jamaica--the smell of sugar cane fields goes right to my nausea centres).

Ah, the pony trekking and the rowing on lakes and bed and breakfasts.

Ii Waves

I am in Portland killing time before my flight. I have reliable Internet access again, but I still skipped a bunch. Happy belated birthday Sarameg.

What else did I miss?