Holy smokes, I thought after I got home from Florida, I'd have a lull, but I'm happy to say it didn't happen. Yesterday, after I virtuously attended exercise at the clubhouse, I got a welcome call from Mike, now in London at last. He and family are in an apartment--"a veritable hovel," according to Citibank's new director of Global Something Or Other, for a week or two before they move into their 7-bedroom house in Surrey. We made arrangements for me to meet him in Manhattan on Sunday--he was so generous as to spring for a room for me, although not at the pricey Trump where he's staying. After we talked, I immediately called darling niece Joan and was pleased she'll meet me on Monday for sight-seeing and lunch.
With that arranged, I pulled weeds in the broiling heat (thought I was back in Miami) while being almost bitten to death by mosquitoes. Had a light lunch (cauliflower and blueberries, NOT mixed),then changed into bathing suit and took off for the lake in Whiting.
Met the adorable little boys and the northern dwellers. They were involved in the "cache" thing--too long and involved to explain--but, unfortunately, didn't find it or them after diligent searching in the woods.
The lake was great and it was so very much fun to splash in it with the precious boyos. We left about 5:30 and had a delectable dinner on the deck: hamburgers, a ragout of mixed veggies, the best corn on the cob I ever tasted, and homemade pickles* and double blueberry tartlets.
Left about 7:00--the others were going to the fireworks at Fort Dix--got home by 8:00and after a deliciously refreshing shower, had my good ol' wine and popcorn.
Today: the "Please Touch Museum" for children in Philadelphia with the northern couple and the little guys.
*When I get a minute, I want to make these. It seems easy and they were wonderfully crisp and flavorful--not at all like the ones you buy in a jar. A great side dish for summer.