Expressions of Little Known Origin, But Mostly Summer Fun

Summer is, hands down, my favorite time of year. (Did you know that this expression originated from horse racing, when jockeys drop their hands down and relax their grip at the moment they are sure to win? Neither did I until I googled it 60 seconds ago.) But seriously, I do love so many things about summer. I love wearing sundresses and flip flops and never having to carry a sweater with you because the nights are that perfect temperature where you don't feel heat and you don't feel cold, you feel just right. I love cooking outdoors at the beach, at a park, or in someones backyard and the taste of char from the grill on my burger. I love the piles and mountains of bright red tomatoes, so juicy you could eat them like an apple in one hand with a salt shaker in the other. I love the perfume of ripe fruit: peaches, apricots, nectarines, berries and turning them into a buttery, crispy cobbler like my mom used to make, and having all of my friends demand the recipe. And corn, don't even get me started on sweet, buttery corn. I think the thing I enjoy most though is the collective awareness that seems to be present all around that we must enjoy these days right now because the weather is warm, the sun is shining, and it's time to play. (I am sure my San Diego friends are reading this and thinking "Uh, we have that year round", but even in the land of perfect weather, the summer mentality still can be found.)

We had one of those matchless kick-off-the-summer weekends over the 4th and quite frankly, I don't think we could have waited much longer. It rained nearly every day in June and I have said it a number of times, but if I hadn't just come off a classic San Diego winter of brilliant sun and beach days, I would have been to be precise, pissed. After a week of rain and thunder, we boarded a morning train out of Penn Station headed to Providence, RI to visit friends (an old colleague and very good friend of mine, Monique & her husband, Jeff). They live near the coast of Rhode Island in a quaint little country town on the border of Massachusetts. It was just the kind of getaway we were looking for: quiet (no taxis honking, no NYU kids partying, no rumbling of subways) and wide open spaces. I have never been to this part of the country before and I must say, it was the postcard perfect New England that I had imagined. Charming shingled homes, bucolic tree lined lanes and wide green meadows, picturesque harbors and boats filled with LL Bean & J Crew types (i.e. white folks), parking lots paved with crushed clam shells. We spent our time hanging out on the porch or in the grass (and more than once at the local winery and brewery), cooking, talking, drinking wine and occasionally creating ridiculous competitions that involved crab walking and if Jeff had his way, which he didn't, trying to hold onto some sort of weird electrical shocking device for more than 30 seconds. To continue the Norman Rockwell affair, on the 4th, we headed over to some friends of Monique & Jeff's for a big Independence Day bash. This consisted of partying on a lake front with about 60 - 80 people and watching all the lake houses try to compete for best pyrotechnic display by setting off literally thousands of dollars of fireworks. I have to say, I think our party took the cake, but it could have just been the front row seat we had. (This expression, by the way, originated in the 19th century having something to do with cake walks, but I got bored after not getting a quick written equivalent of a soundbite). The party also included a clam boil, canoeing, and a bonfire that may have stolen the ends of my eyebrows. We wrapped up the weekend with lunchtime lobstah rolls and a stop for some locally made ice cream before heading to the train station. Is this just screaming postcard to anyone else?

I guess the point of me sharing this perfect summer weekend is to ask everyone to raise a glass with me and toast the arrival of the season of leisure. Here is to whiling away time with good company, good food and a cold drink. Cheers to the festivals, county fairs and carnivals with their bounty of funnel cake and corn dogs. Give it up for shoulders tinged pink, new freckles, and the crunch of your hair when it dries with saltwater. To sand between your toes, to pool parties and to whatever song will inundate the radio waves so that 15 years from now when you hear it it will bring back a rush of memories and emotions for the Summer of '09. Make it a good one worth recalling fondly.

PS I would love to hear your favorite things about summer, if you care to share, please post a comment!