So, you know the concept of spring cleaning?
I avoid that like the plague.
Spring is a time to be outside (I do not suffer from allergies; my sympathies if you do).
But when late summer comes and it is basically too hot to be outside unless you like your brains fricasseed right inside your cranium and your epidermis melting into your shoes, which I don't, I start changing things around inside the house.
Obviously I do some cleaning. High time, too.
I did so much of that the last few days that I was stiff and sore from bending and stooping and carrying and pushing and pulling and toting and polishing and scrubbing and ... all of it.
So I decided rather late in the day to go swimming ... something I hadn't had an opportunity to do since last weekend on account of we've had so much rain.
With rare exceptions I only take to the pool as the sun is going down. It's cooler and you don't have to bother with sunblock.
Also you know how I am about sunsets.
A South Carolina sunset as viewed from the pool while the cicadas are serenading the neighborhood and swallows chase bugs around the sky rarely if ever lets you down.
Erica had decided not to swim because it had gotten so late ... but when I got into the water I called to her real loud (she was sitting right inside the door looking at a magazine) and when she poked her head out the door I said it was in her best interests to join me. The water felt that great.
Meanwhile, the sunset was growing more and more fiery.
Until by the time Erica came outside, it looked like some sort of holocaust.
Cliche I know, but there you have it: fire in the sky.
I realize this next one is blurry but I like it blurry. Things are mostly a blur for me anyway, metaphorically speaking.
When I turned back around from taking the picture of my palm trees that Andrew planted for me and which I festooned with Christmas lights two weeks ago, the sunset had gone all the way off the chain.
BTW I was in the pool the whole time, in the shallow end. TG asked me once if I'm ever afraid I'll drop my camera into the water.
Yes.
When it was practically all the way dark (nine o'clock ... I know June 21st was the longest day of the year but it certainly doesn't seem as though the days are getting shorter), I went inside because Erica and I were having a late supper of center-cut pork chops baked to fork-tender, seasoned with worcestershire sauce and Tony Chachere's, and served on soft buns with Kettle Krinkle Cut potato chips (salt and fresh ground pepper flavor) on the side and ice-cold Diet Pepsi to drink.
There's a pork chop left over if you want it.
But before I sat down to eat I took a picture of my favorite finial. I took it with no flash, which I love doing. I also love finials. I got this one at Tuesday Morning.
And then I admired my handiwork around the house, including the newly-arranged country bear corner in the family room. Don't the bears look contented?
That's because they are. And so am I.
Happy Thursday!
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