The Mint Patch Monologue

Tag: writing

  • Another Dinner Party

    Two more, actually. The heat of summer had me curious over artichokes and after just a bit of research I learned that they are pretty easy to prepare. A nice pot of boiling water salted, a juicy lemon, and a  homemade yogurt dipping sauce was all the work it took to serve them up (for myself) and enjoy them.  The extra lemon inspired a cold shrimp cocktail and the  meal was rounded off with some blue cheese stuffed olives. A white wine and peach spritzer paired nicely with the salty tangy spread, and of course a little decoration with  flowers is ALWAYS necessary. This dinner party was enjoyed on top of a half made bed, a perfect place for cool evening lounging after a day spent under the hot sun. The mood was topped off with a movie, “Stealing Beauty” staring a very young Liv Tyler who travels to Italy in search of truth and connection. I fell deep into girlhood on this evening. I wonder what dinner parties in Italy are like.

    The next day had me in a storybook mood, something whimsical, almost fairy tale. The evening lounge continued onto a blanketed patch of grass in the backyard, against the softness of the wildflowers. The blanket belonged to my Mamaw, there’s no way to date it but I know she was born in 1912 and lived up until 2004. Somewhere within those many years she acquired it and covered her lap as she sat in her knee high stockings.  I am so happy to own something that was hers. Any music fans out there might remember these lyrics by Steely Dan… “Well, you wouldn’t even know a diamond if you held it in your hand
    The things you think are precious I can’t understand”.     It is a good reminder to consider what we own and how UN-important our possessions have the potential of being. We can buy anything we want on credit or outright, but owning real treasure is special.  Comfort food saved me from making a big to-do for dinner, a perfect tuna melt didn’t hit the spot, it nestled itself down into it. The arugula got a well needed trim and brought balance to the plate. Percy enjoyed this dinner party, he was all the company I could ask for. We watched lightning bugs come out after dark and relaxed together with full bellies and even fuller hearts.

    Gladys speaks often of sitting up on summer nights with canine companions, she was a well-known breeder of champion cocker spaniels. I love the way she describes their velvet snouts and feather plume tails. As the summer season comes to an end so does the reach of the vines, everything is slowing down. The BER months are upon us now and all have their own themes. I think of them as a four part celebration towards the end of another fortunate year we have had on this beautiful planet. This series comes to us with temperatures in the 80s but will soon include days that slowly grow darker and colder as the months pass by. For now, I am eating buckets of cherry tomatoes and watching late sunsets. Until next time, thank you for reading and as always..

    Drop me a line, because I do love to chat!

    justicesarah67@yahoo.com

  • Pencil Season

    I have had the aches and pains of nostalgia all week. I am plagued with longing for a time before I knew of the cruelness of life, and the pressures of responsibilities. A time when all I had to do was change into my swim suit (as long as time and temperature said it was at least 80 degrees) and my mother would drive us to the pool. I tried to recreate that for myself this summer, by spending every free moment I had swimming at the same public pool, the one mom would take us to every free summer day we had (which was many, every year.) She was a teacher so we spent our summers off together lounging, tanning, and doing lots of jumping in with our noses pinched. I never wanted to leave, and one more jump was always accepted as two or three more jumps in to the crystal water. I hadn’t handed over a five dollar bill to enter the pool for the day in 25 years, at least, until this past summer. I put fifty dollars in $5 bills into my purse in June and went every single chance I got. I swam laps, I jumped off the diving board, I read books, I cheered on kids who were scared, I watched them make friends, I saw dads be good dads, I witnessed pure human joy, and felt that joy myself too. The pool exists in a moment in time, that is untainted by time; simple floaties on little arms, hot dogs from the concession stand, cannonballs, belly flops, watchful lifeguards, and adults and kids alike sharing the understanding of what’s REALLY fun. I walked away from the pool for the last time this year on Sunday, my last free day before school started back.

    The pool always closes the day before the first day of school, probably because the lifeguards are students too. This is a part of the changing of the seasons, as happy as I am to welcome one I am also sad to let go of the other. Even letting go of winter leaves me sad knowing I will not see the pink sunrise on snow for another long while, and I miss my sweaters and my faithful electric blanket. But with change being life’s dearest constant I do my best to embrace what is new, again.

    This brings us to something I am happy to share with you, my pencil collection. It is simple, you see the middle school is a block over or so from my house, and for many years now my evening walks consist of picking up perfectly good pencils I find on the ground. This “hobby” of mine started when we moved into our house, on my walks I couldn’t help but to notice the litter of pencils all along the school grounds. I decided one day to pick them up and bring them home.

    Little genius tools, they are… writers’ tools, instruments of knowledge, understanding, and learning. Pure, and in no need of upgrades. A solemn reminder to me that keyboards haven’t stopped the practice of drawing letters on a page. They need sharpened, can be broken, and come in different styles, each one branded with it’s maker’s name. Rarely but still, some are found with deep bite marks, perhaps from the more nervous students, or ones who aren’t (middle schoolers are wild cards.)

    All in a week’s time I have gone from swimming back to pencil hunting for another season, a transition that has left me wading through nostalgia for my own first days back to school. For now, the days are still long as the seasons overlap. The garden is still thriving although the bean vines are turning yellow, and the tomato stalks are getting woody. Tomorrow is the first football game and I will likely go, if just to soak up a sense of belonging and to remember a world that existed before. As the lines on my face become drawn by the pencils of time, so do my memories multiply. For now I will be grateful for all of the watermelon in the world until it’s time to embrace the pumpkin spice.

    Thank you for reading, drop me a line sometime… I DO love to chat!

    justicesarah67@yahoo.com