In the last couple of years, I’ve come to LOVE summer. To wallow in the summer-iness goodness of it. I walk out of the door of the gym on Thursday nights, in late July and August, when the temperature is PERFECT and say (loudly) “I LOVE SUMMER!”
Track workouts on Tuesdays in the summer are my favorite day of the week. There will be a day — again in August — when the temperature after the run is PERFECT. Laying in the grass, looking at the fading sky. Could there be anything better? Maybe a bite of watermelon in the mouth at the same time.
I haven’t always been a summer person. Five years ago I bet I was a spring or fall person.
My first discover of the week: My birthday is in December, the day after the solstice (shortest day of the year). This week it dawned on me, my b-day is the first day on the march toward the summer solstice. Yeah.
My discovery of the summer — re-discovery is probably more accurate — is that a mouthful of perfect peach is summer in a bite. I love watermelon the most. And the second mouthful of peach isn’t the same as the first. But that first bite. Oohhh.
And lastly, I learned how to make fruit tart (filling) this week. Another thing I don’t really need to know. But I was awash, first in pluots and today in plums, and I had to do something with them. The pluot filling had cardamom and allspice (I was following a recipe). Really good. The plum filling I made today is too tart – I was just makin’ it up. Both of these had crust, after a fashion. The first crust didn’t work, but not one to be scuttled, I piled the flour and butter bits on a cookie sheet, put the filling on top and baked — I ended up with bars, sorta. In my revived no-gluten world, today I put almond meal and butter on the bottom of a glass dish and the filling on top. Not so much – filling or “crust”.
Training Today: None, I napped and got a massage. About 2 months ago I changed my massage from Monday to Wednesday. It’s not working on that day for a variety of reasons. (If I run both weekend days, I am wanting to take Monday off, not run on that evening.)