Summertime...
...is officially here, if you're in the Northern hemisphere. Blessed solstice to those who celebrate it. Happy Longest-Day-of-the-Year to everybody else. :D
The weekend was good and productive and very rain-free, after the drama that was Friday night's storm. Any hopes that all the rain would cool us off, however, were totally in vain, as Saturday was blast-from-an-oven-door hot, all sunless blue sky and punishing, extra-bright sun glaring down. It was well over 90 degrees outside, which made every little bit of venturing outside feel completely exhausting, and that went double for taking the kidlets out for ice cream and the movies. (Our verdict on Toy Story three: three thumbs way up. It made my heart swell with love and my eyes well with tears. Go see it now.) By the evening, I was so wrung out that I basically just collapsed under the ceiling fan and watched Invictus, which was good enough that I really wish it had been better. (I generally enjoy Clint Eastwood's direction, but there was something... unusually clunky in the handling here. Not enough small, human moments, I think, and too many that seemed overly static and scripted. You know, MOMENTS, rather than moments. Still enjoyable, though.)
Sunday was less brutally hot, which was fortunate for our Father's Day barbecue. I tried to include most of Dad's favorite things, so the menu was as follows: grilled pork chops stuffed with fresh cherries and Gorgonzola cheese, green salad with homemade vinaigrette, fingerling potatoes roasted with garlic and olive oil, and green beans quickly stir-fried with a touch of sesame oil, tamari and toasted sesame seed. The drink of choice was cherry sangria, and dessert was chocolate cake with chocolate mousse sandwiched in-between, all covered by Dad's favorite chocolate buttercream.
It was, based on the enthusiastic yummy noises and the absence of leftovers, a success. Younger brother handled the actual grilling of the pork chops, and they were absolutely perfect. World Cup soccer was watched. (Brazil versus Ivory Coast, which... sorry, Ivory Coast, but you got spanked.) We played croquet in the backyard. I had a nice long conversation with Younger Brother, who is miraculously happy-go-lucky and chatty now that his summer semester is almost over. (Funny how that happens.) He's taking an intensive Master Class with a Mridangam Master these next few weeks, as part of a seminar on Carnatic music, so he's thrilled about that. And he's also decided to minor in Psychology, which is an unexpected development, but I think a good one.
The later evening was overtaken by allergy unpleasantness of some kind, which abated for a bit but is now back in the form of a filthy sinus headache. Ugh. Other than that, I'm decently pleased with the state of things... I just need some decongestant to remind me of that fact.
The weekend was good and productive and very rain-free, after the drama that was Friday night's storm. Any hopes that all the rain would cool us off, however, were totally in vain, as Saturday was blast-from-an-oven-door hot, all sunless blue sky and punishing, extra-bright sun glaring down. It was well over 90 degrees outside, which made every little bit of venturing outside feel completely exhausting, and that went double for taking the kidlets out for ice cream and the movies. (Our verdict on Toy Story three: three thumbs way up. It made my heart swell with love and my eyes well with tears. Go see it now.) By the evening, I was so wrung out that I basically just collapsed under the ceiling fan and watched Invictus, which was good enough that I really wish it had been better. (I generally enjoy Clint Eastwood's direction, but there was something... unusually clunky in the handling here. Not enough small, human moments, I think, and too many that seemed overly static and scripted. You know, MOMENTS, rather than moments. Still enjoyable, though.)
Sunday was less brutally hot, which was fortunate for our Father's Day barbecue. I tried to include most of Dad's favorite things, so the menu was as follows: grilled pork chops stuffed with fresh cherries and Gorgonzola cheese, green salad with homemade vinaigrette, fingerling potatoes roasted with garlic and olive oil, and green beans quickly stir-fried with a touch of sesame oil, tamari and toasted sesame seed. The drink of choice was cherry sangria, and dessert was chocolate cake with chocolate mousse sandwiched in-between, all covered by Dad's favorite chocolate buttercream.
It was, based on the enthusiastic yummy noises and the absence of leftovers, a success. Younger brother handled the actual grilling of the pork chops, and they were absolutely perfect. World Cup soccer was watched. (Brazil versus Ivory Coast, which... sorry, Ivory Coast, but you got spanked.) We played croquet in the backyard. I had a nice long conversation with Younger Brother, who is miraculously happy-go-lucky and chatty now that his summer semester is almost over. (Funny how that happens.) He's taking an intensive Master Class with a Mridangam Master these next few weeks, as part of a seminar on Carnatic music, so he's thrilled about that. And he's also decided to minor in Psychology, which is an unexpected development, but I think a good one.
The later evening was overtaken by allergy unpleasantness of some kind, which abated for a bit but is now back in the form of a filthy sinus headache. Ugh. Other than that, I'm decently pleased with the state of things... I just need some decongestant to remind me of that fact.