Summertime

One of the favorite "rites" of summer at our house involves squash.....yes, squash. We have a local restaurant that offers delicious fried squash year round. Truly a Southern delicacy, this fried squash is as addictive as any potato chip (or worse) you will ever find. (Is it healthier with a veggie inside?)

Not to be outdone, my husband took to a fry daddy (yes, a fry daddy) in the back yard to produce his own version of, you guessed it, fried squash. Breaded in corn meal and deep fried until crispy crunchy, these home made squashes (what IS the plural of squash?) are unbelievable! And, just to make it all a little more unhealthy, we pull up a cooler of beer and the patio chairs, and partake to our hearts' content as these amazing hot nibbles come out of the fryer. And I find myself wondering why those size 6 jeans don't fit like they once did......

Catch a summer night with a slight breeze, add our shady backyard, and fresh deep fried local squash.....it's a recipe for contentment....and what is that I hear as we finish up? Yes, the ice cream truck is making its rounds. Should I?

Truly In"dee"pendent!

This Fourth of July, my family and I opted for a holiday of the more quiet, staying at home variety. With vacation coming up in August and a fairly busy work schedule, getting away this year for Independence Day just wasn't to be. But last July 4th brought one of the most surreal moments in my recent memory. In July 2009, we took an opportunity to hit the Carolina Coast for a few days. On the evening of the 4th, after a wonderful dinner, my children and I (Daddy did not want to go....perhaps too many beers during the day) made the short trek to the ocean's edge. We carelessly tossed a beach towel on the sand, plopped down with our full tummies and slightly sleepy eyes, kicked off our flops, and settled in for a fantastic southern fireworks show. Ocean Annie's had a quirky blend of beach, Buffett and patriotic music blaring. Someone had brought their near frenzied lab. The fireworks, like the moment, seemed choreographed, although most probably they were not. Incredible splashes of red and blue and silver and white lit the beautiful Carolina sky. Loud pops were followed by breathtaking sprays of pastel and primary design. The colors danced softly in the shimmering ocean. I looked over at my spellbound children and could see the fireworks reflecting in their eyes. I remember thinking that this not so favorite of holidays was in that moment becoming a new favorite of mine. The crowds of summer, the sometimes unbearable heat of July in the South, the upwardly spiralling cost of travelling all melted away. I knew in that moment I was where I was meant to be. I thought of September 11. I thought of the amazing times and cherished memories my children have brought me. I thought of John Kennedy. I thought of the incredible natural beauty and resources of South Carolina that we who live here so casually take for granted. I thought of the niece I had recently lost and felt her there with us. I felt tears. Tears of patriotism, tears of awe, tears of loss, tears of love for my son and my daughter, tears of hope for their futures. Looking back now, I think of a line from a new Keith Urban song, "the Fourth of July never burned so brightly...." Wish I had those fitting words then. Some moments are plain and simply meant to be. I didn't want this one to end.