Saturday, 4 July 2009


We just finished watching Mamma Mia! on DVD for about the fourth time this year. What a feel good movie that is, so much so you come away singing, dancing and feeling the burn of fire red shoulders glittered with sun-creamed sand.

I want to taste the smell of youth again. Dip my toes into aqua blue seas that shimmer like diamonds, a gift from the gods.

Lie on the beach 'til the sun goes down and feel the scratch of baked hair shift across my back.

Ah, the summer.

The summer of my life is come again.


  1. Here in Texas we tend to cower in fear in some dark, air-conditioned room at the mention of Summer. The thermometer outside says 105 degrees. The earth smokes.

    I like sun-creamed sand. That's an inventive pairing of words, I think.

  2. 105! We hit 30 degrees this week and it's been unbearable because of the muggy close air that comes with it. Everything sticks to you, clothes, dust, next doors' cat. The nights are worse, you can't sleep for the heat and on top of that we've all had dreadful coughs and colds.

    I long for the dry heat of the mediterranean and the holidays we used to have, along with fit, lean bodies glazed bronze rather than patches of bright red 'T' shirt rings on necks and arms.

    105 degrees, I hope you've got a hat.

  3. Well, kiddies, it's winter down here, but what these people call winter is a silly excuse for the real thing. Most days the temperature is in the 60s (17 to 20), with mostly sunny skies and nice breezes from the Atlantic. Hasn't rained much, hasn't yet had a low temperature drop past 40, and I have yet to feel the need for a hat, gloves, or a jacket more substantial than a sports coat or thin leather jacket -- and July is the equivalent of January in the northern lands. This cannot be normal, but I am not complaining.

    Since I have long left behind my summers, I am pleased that as I enter the winter of life, it ain't all that bad.

    I, too, like sun-creamed sand ... but something came to mind quite far from your intent, I would think.

    (None of us are posting much lately, and I bet that's a good thing for our real life work.)

  4. Don, my dear. How lovely to catch up with you once again. These have been barren pages of late for many good reasons. I had thought of moving on to pastures new but it occurred to me that friends might still drop by from time to time so here we are.

    Your weather sounds just fine.

    As for the winter of your life, you mean early autumn, surely.

  5. I have a patchwork type of tan - I must remember to take off my string vest next time I fall asleep on the beach.

    We don't get summer here in Plymouth. We go from spring to autumn in one long non-descript leap of haze.

  6. Dear John...(Mm sounds familiar)Do you also put a hanky on your head and wear socks with sandals, which is of course a cardinal sin?

  7. Hankie yes - socks no - but speedos are a must.

    As Jethro said if you want to impress the ladies put a rock down your pants - just make sure it's down the front!


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