Fish fry

When I was growing up my retired grandparents loved to drag their little trailor to a lake and fish for a few days. This usually involved going some distance because we lived in west Texas, which isn't exactly the lake-region of the state.

They would make several trips of this sort and then would announce a "fish fry" for family and friends. We would gather in the back yard, a rectangle of spiky barely-alive grass surrounded by a concrete block fence.... no trees, no shrubs, no patio. My grandad would fire up a butane-powered deep fry rig and start cooking. My grandmother was in charge of everything else. It was always wonderful, and we all looked forward to these periodic gatherings.

Years later in another part of the state, my husband and I became friends with a retired couple who owned property on a nearby lake and set out trot-lines regularly. When they had amassed enough of a supply, they also hosted a fish fry for their friends, usually around Memorial Day.

The fish was the same delightfully crispy, cornmeal-battered catfish. yum. The surroundings were very different, however. These central Texas events were hosted on the lake's edge, sheltered by 40-foot tall pecan trees. The grass carpeting the area was lush and soft.

But despite the physical settings, the memorable thing about both the west Texas fish fry events and the central Texas fish fry events -- was the simple sit-around-and-enjoy-each-other feeling that permeated the evening. What a delightful break from the daily hurry-up routine.

What a delightful set of summer-time memories.

Hot

Good grief, the thermometer is bumping up against 100 every afternoon. With some luck, we will be back in the lower 90s by the end of the week. ugh.

I'm starting to dream of a new flextime ..... How about going to the office at 8pm and working until 5am ? That would put me back at the house in time to enjoy the really lovely part of the day from 6am until 9am when the world is cool and fresh. Then I could sleep from 10am, through noon, until 6pm when the sun's rays are beginning to angle and grow less intense.

Why not? We adopted daylight savings time during the dark winter months, right? We could adopt this through the scorching summer months. I think this could work.

Of course, this plan is dependent on good air conditioning and room-darkening shades..... and the adjustment to this rhythm might be rocky..... but we have to do something!

Rolling down the road

Car trips are a special kind of travel. I recently did quite a bit of riding/driving over a span of several days, and I was reminded of the joys associated with this particular form of transportation.

It's almost axiomatic in our family that car trips are a great time for conversation. You are sitting close together. There are few interruptions (although cell phones have changed this a bit). There is enough time -- usually several hours -- for leisurely storytelling, discussing, sharing. And there isn't much else to do, assuming that you don't retreat to headphones or sleeping (riders, hopefully not drivers!)

From my youngest years, I have loved to look out the windows while riding in a car. I like to see the countryside between towns and I love to imagine living in the houses we pass and small towns we pass through. It is a stimulating experience to leave your normal environs and see something new. I always feel free, unfettered.

Riding in the car is also a great time for introspection/reflection. We occasionally fall into a companionable silence, zipping down the road together but lost in our own thoughts. The crazier and more hectic our world becomes, the more I cherish these little islands of silence and peace and isolation from my normal duties.

Another great joy for me on car trips is listening. I love to hear audiobooks in the car as I travel. Maybe this is a holdover from childhood, but there is something really fun about having something new and interesting read to you. I am a voracious reader and go through a huge pile of books each year, but I get a deep down enjoyment from listening to someone else read once in a while.

Perhaps I'll plan another car trip soon.
As soon as I save up enough money for gas.

Huh?

I don't know about you, but in the past few years I have found myself talking to people who aren't talking to me. (insert your own joke here)

More than once in the grocery store, a person in my aisle has said something and I have replied -- only to realize that the person was asking someone over the phone where to find the green beans. I've grown cautious about being helpful.

In a large department store, I have replied to people -- and then noticed that the person was talking on a walkie talkie. My mistake.

But today's experience tops all previous ones.

Today I went to well-known electronics store and soon sought out a young employee to answer a few questions about the product I was considering. A few moments into our conversation, I was stunned when the store employee said loudly, "You'll have to handle that yourself. I'm busy."

I know I must have looked shocked, because she smiled and explained that she was talking to another store employee and indicated the microphone pinned to her blouse.

I chuckled and asked my next question. But before she replied to me, she stared straight into my eyes and said loudly and forcefully, "I can't help you now. Get Mike or someone to do it!"

I have to admit that I totally lost my train of thought.

Over the next few minutes, she talked to me and to a fellow store employee in such an intermingled manner that I finally said, "I'm sorry but I can't tell when you are talking to me and when you are talking to someone else."

It was absolutely the most disconcerting shopping experience of my life!

I've already said that I may have to buy all my groceries online.
Now I'm thinking I may just buy everything online.

Color coordination

Years ago when my future husband showed up at the dorm for our first date, we were amused by the fact that we were both wearing the unlikely color combination of red and turquoise. This story has led to the inevitable comments about us being meant for each other (not always intended as a compliment, I suspect).

At the office when our teams meet, we often note that a majority of us are wearing the same color -- often an uncommon color. Over the years, this has developed into a ritual comment: "Ah, I see you got the memo!"

Last weekend my son drove into town for a quick weekend visit. When I saw him drive up, I went outside to welcome him. He stepped out of his car, smiling, and then stopped. He looked down at his clothes and back at mine. We had on the same color jeans, same white t-shirt, and a coral-colored overshirt (his was a polo; mine was a hoodie zipped up halfway). Weird, he said.

What is going on with this stuff? It seems to happen more often than the usual random event. For a while, I thought it was a result of the fashion industry controlling what colors or color combinations are popular/available, but that doesn't pan out. Then I thought that I just hang around with people who have the same taste in color that I have, but it happens with strangers.

Perhaps it is time for a think tank somewhere to address this phenomenon. As a friend of mine remarked, "Why do we end up looking like the coordinates section of the Sears catalog?"