Oh June. Let's Break Up.

June. Why won't you let me love you, baby? I want to lay out in your lush green lawns in a cute little dress and read all afternoon, sipping iced lemon zinger tea, skin warmed until I fall into a comfortable catnap. I want to drive through your valleys, birds echoing off the sides in a wild cacophonous hillbilly symphony, my arm out the driver's window playing with the wind, Gish or Siamese dream loud on the stereo. I want to cut some of your flowers and open every window in the house, bringing you inside as much as possible. I want to sit up in the tree house with my family in a humid funky pinky-purpley glow or your stunning sunsets, drinking beer and playing with a telescope, watching for falling stars, making smores in the firepit.
But, June.

June.
Your gloom is oppressive. I wake up to clouds hanging low, scraping the treetops, heavy with potential rains. Sometimes, in the middle of the night, you rain so loud it wakes me and I lay there wishing I had to run out and roll up the windows of the cars. But the windows are closed. Because, you know, we've had the heater on inside of them. All of the lights in the house are on during the daytime (well, from room to room, we're not assholes). It feels like you're drawing from every fire ever burned and choking everything with all of it's black-grey and haze. And while you do stay bright enough inside the low ceiling of grey, the light you give is filtered, tugs down the corner of one's eyes to squint, mouth set grim, everything cast in a bluish light like an overly arty film - colors distorted to drive a point home in a supposed symbolic manner. Gross is all it really is, film or reality.

Oh, June.
I'm sorry, we have to break up this year. You're just not the June I remember. I play swing music loud, trying to chase your irritating depressive-ness away with hyper-chipper, saccharine melodies and upbeat, poppy tunes. I lace all of the meals I make with hothouse grown tomatoes and zucchinis, pretending you're not leaving my own veggies shriveled and bent in the garden. I sleep with the windows open in defiance of your blustery winds, with all of my quilts piled high. I wear thick tights with cute skirts and hoodies and cardigans and pray it doesn't rain enough so that I wind up soaked.
Fuck you, June.

I'm not a fan of what your looming dampness is doing to the satanic levels of grass pollen, either.
Just so you know.

Best Kind of Chaos Ever

The most amazing, wonderful, and exciting thing happened this past Saturday - my bestest, darlingest, dearest, sweetest, and most importantly SMELLIEST friend ever had her second child at 3 in the afternoon or so. I got a call around 8, with a voicemail that *I* got at about 9.30: "Door, it's me, I know it's really early but my blood pressure was too high, so we're having the baby at 10.30. BYE". That's how she is, all the big details that beg elaboration - such as, "I'm totally fine and so is baby, we're just being cautious because I have the shittiest pregnancies known to humankind" - and I got to have a giant stone of freaked in my belly all day. Normally I wouldn't, but BFFFF has the worst luck with health and preggo-ness. For instance, last month? She passed two kidney stones. While pregnant. The size of pencil erasers. GOOD TIMES.

Anyhow, everyone gets to come home tomorrow, and I get to watch my cutiepatootie little almost-niece, Sassypants while baby gets settled in (and mama and Dad get a nap, one hopes). I've got chocolate chips and cookie makings, a Tinkerbell movie for Sassy and Sae, and 35 different kinds of nail polish. I'm excited! A fun girl's day, hopefully she will be excited to do cool big girl stuff and be jazzed on her new job as Big Sister. I love little Sassypants mucho, and have really sucked about seeing her (and her dear mama) lately.

Tonight, I am returning the meal-making favor BFFFF bestowed on me Post-BusyBee birth. She brought me all kinds of stuff, made sure to take pics because I'm miserable at it, and kept me company and thus sane.
I've made a Southwestern sort of casserole with corn tortillas, beef, bell peppers, tomato, corn, and mild chili sauce. It's topped with cheese, homemade cornbread, and a smidge more cheese :) I <3 cheese. I've also made two pumpkin bread loaves - one with chocolate chips, and one without because some ladies are big weirdos who hate chocolate but they just had a ridiculously cute baby, so I will indulge them in their deranged tastes. I'm also making a bolognese bake, but I'm most excited to make BFFFF her long-awaited chicken carbonara. She had to be really good on a really strict diet during her pregnancy, and she asked me to make my version of America's Test Kitchen's "lite" (bahahahaaaaaaaa) chicken carbonara as soon as she could cut loose a little! I love cooking for people a ridiculously huge amount.

I thought I would post a tiny bit - I'm so busy I haven't even painted much, but I need to focus on writing at least! I need an outlet! Even if it is to squee and talk about food and happy junk. Nice for a change of pace for this poor old blog!