There’s nothing like the distractions of summer to make one forget (almost) the news. And, however guilty I may feel about not persevering as the “eat your spinach” part of your weekly communications, I have no intention of writing about him who shall not be named…..at least not today……or about any of the other depressing items in the news.
The body has been relaxed and the soul enriched by concerts at Tanglewood, the Boston Symphony’s sylvan campus in the Berkshires. The lust for lobster has been partially sated by a visit to Ogunquit. We’ve even indulged in real ice cream (not low fat, not frozen yogurt, just the calorie-laden luscious ice cream of our childhood) at the High Lawn Farm in Lenox, where we enjoyed the indulgence face to face with the contented cows who made it possible. Our return to basics has been reinforced by our family visit to the Vineyard, surrounded by children, dogs, horses, swans and more (yes, fleas and ticks, but let’s not dwell on that).
The Red Sox are providing many fun moments this summer. Wimbledon, with the emergence of a 20-year-old victor, was riveting. Sons and grandchildren and more will gather for several birthday celebrations here next weekend. As George and Ira Gershwin observed, “Who could ask for anything more?”
Not even the days-long torrential rainstorms, the lightning, or the ravenous rabbits in our garden can diminish my contentment. So, dear reader, my message for today goes beyond carpe diem. Carpe minutem! And, no, I am not on anything.