On the day before the first day of summer, they came to catch fireflies. Heads shorn they ran, jars in-hand, beneath the low-hanging branches. The lady, more magpie than mother, plucked an escapee out of the air.
A haircut shorter than I'd like/the perfect length for summer's dawn.
The line to glean Shakespeare tickets; a line that I love to wait in, a cool morning at the park. A breezy drink with the truly affable. A splendid set for The Winter's Tale, all puppets and boats and numbrellas and mist. I don't know why I'm always surprised by Shakespeare--that however well I know what's coming I sit, mouth slightly agape, stunned and made to grin and weep. Among many nodding sheeps, a line just for me: "the queen of curds and cream."
Stone fruits, bees, beer that is cold.
The heat. The heat and damp to which the only proper response remains running through sprinklers, eating popsicles, catching a film. For two glorious hours, the cool of the theatre. A matinee, a matinee.
The sun gilds the leaves. The fireflies weave their magic low.
15 maids a-milking:
Yes yes yes yes yes
man you make me miss new york.
stop breaking my heart.
dear amanda,
if you could move in to my home for the sole purpose of telling me bedtime stories, i would be the happiest girl.
love and kisses,
celia
I think I kind of love you.
You can't have her Celia, she's mine. She's going to live in our spare room and write her book and read to our bubbies and we're going to take her to see cows with bangs and I don't know what else yet but something good so that she will stay forever and ever.
Oh you darlings, this was so lovely to wake up to.
Love you love you love you all.
could you be any more lovely?
@peonies i'll rock paper scissors you...
next time i'm spiriting you away for midnight tacos after the show as well. the sunset on your hair as you perched with us at belvedere castle, my dear amanda.
You know, sometimes I like that line more even than the show.
Like Jamie, the talk of heat and popsicles breaks my heart. We have no use for popsicles here.
"Low magic." Wonderful. Half magic. I like the tide better when it's out too.
mmmmmmmmmmmm.....
that's all.
Fireflies and Shakespeare... yearning for Central Park in the summertime.
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