Facing Traffic

Well, it's official... my vacation is over... know how I know? My bum is peeling. You never peel until you're back home.

I can't believe that it's the middle of August already. It would really suck to be a kid having to go back to school soon. It seems like it hardly got hot enough to be Summer. I was working at the Marriott today and heard the locusts in the bushes. I don't know if it's technically 'romantic'... but that's a word that I use to describe something that takes me back to a warm-fuzzy time

It was the locusts and the lightning bugs that were the two things about Summer that I remember... that and growing up in the deep South on Big Daddy's plantation as a proper southern belle... I remember Mammy would help me get into my outfit for the barbecues at Twelve Oaks where I would drink mint juleps with that awfully handsome Ashley Wilkes... err... oh, wait... that wasn't me... that was Miss Scarlett. Well, it wasn't that much different in Robinson... except we had hot dogs and Klondikes on our cedar red picnic table in the back yard. Fiddle-Dee-Dee (i.e. fuck).