Yesterday my girlfriend looked out our window and saw one tiny hydrangea growing. It's as if after last year's heat killing off everything, our plants decided to sit out the sun this year with only one little bloom popping up as if to say, "is the nasty sun gone yet?" At least it's raining today.
My girlfriend got this promotional poster framed.
This close-up image of Claude Monet's Chrysanthemums is from our recent Paris vacation.
It was one of a few souvenirs from our stop at the Musee de l'Orangerie. She thought it would look good hanging up in our home.
It was already rolled up and wrapped in plastic, but I had a bad feeling that it wouldn't survive in my checked baggage without getting ruined.
I carried it in my hand walking through the airport and kept it close to me on the plane back to Boston.
If I had kept it in my soon-to-be lost luggage, lord knows what condition it would have been in when I finally got it back.
There's not a lot about the summer I want to look back on, but seeing this picture every morning makes me happy.
June 18. Not even summer yet. No drought in effect. No mosquitoes. Just an awesome night sitting outside. That's right. I'm picking a night before summer even started as a summer highlight.
Anita's variety show in Provincetown was worth the trip. Sadly, there are no YouTube clips of her performing Pat Benetar's "We Belong." You'll just have to see the show and make a request.
While getting to the boats, I got to take pictures of stickers like this one.
On June 30, I read at the Culture Rapide in Paris, France.
It was my first time reading in another country.
I wasn't able to read as a feature.
When I got there to sign up for the open mic, I was put on last.
I gave it my all. I might not be back for five years. Maybe longer.
Maybe I went too long. Maybe I went overboard.
I don't care.
I did what I had to do to make my spot count.
That was my only option.
I think it worked.
Someone asked if I was going to be around for an event next week.
Sadly, I had to leave that Monday.
I will not make that mistake if there is a next time.
So thankful it's the end of both summer and the orange line shutdown. With everything that happened this year, how can you feel angry that summer is over without have some kind of mental disorder?
A bonus American Haiku from last week (along with a photo) is up now at The New Verse News. Thanks, James Penha, for accepting my work again.
