Shannon's has ice cream!

Yours truly was invited to lunch with a true Pine Castle oldtimer this afternoon.

The venue was Shannon's Causal Cafe on South Orange Avenue.

Now, I've been there plenty of times before, for both breakfast and lunch.

But, today was the first time I ever tried one of their old-fashioned ice cream sundaes.

They have several varieties, all with quirky local names. Of course, I had to try the "Pine Castle," which came with a layer of crushed pineapples.

Even without the desserts, our table would've had a great time at Shannon's this afternoon. As it was, the ice cream proved the perfect ending. And, it's one of the best ways we've found to combat the summertime heat around this little corner of heaven . . .

Big Brother premiere tonight

If like me, ye socks may be looking for some mindless entertainment to take your minds off weightier matters.

In which case, the folks over at CBS have stepped-up in a big way this evening with the premiere of the favorite summertime guilty pleasure in this neck of the woods: Big Brother.

Starts at 8pm for those of you fortunate enough to live on the east coast. The rest of you will just have to check your schedules.

Hittin' the bricks

Well, ye socks, I just completed one of my least favorite chores out in the yard: weeding the brick sidewalks.

Sometimes, I wonder if all the little green sprouts only bother me . . . but, after letting things go the last few weekends, I was pretty sure they must be offending others.

So, I made sure I got up at the crack of dawn to tackle this little project. Wanted to get it over and done with before the summer sun became too intolerable.

As it turns out, the sun wasn't so much my enemy as the bricks were themselves.

While, I was able to dispatch the vast majority of the green invaders, I managed to brush up against the brick edges enough times to burn some pretty nasty looking blisters into the first joint of both index fingers, and the corners of both thumbs, and the outside edges of both hands.

Guess this is why smarter gardeners wear gloves?!?

An unexpected detour

Well, ye socks, today's busy agenda was thrown out the window not long after making the trek up to check on ye old Lake Hammer chalet.

The details of said derailment aren't really important. I only mention it because I am ever more frequently surprising myself lately how much I let things like that roll off my back.

I guess it's true what they say about mellowing with age . . .

Anyway, yours truly unexpectedly found himself with a couple of hours to kill, and ended up strolling the aisles of a flea market along 441.

I could not have asked for better timing. Just as I ducked inside the air-conditioned portion of the market, we got one of our usual summertime "sunshowers." That not only drove away a lot of fellow junkers, it also cut the July temperatures enough to encourage me to explore the un-air-conditioned section.

It had been a long time since my shadow had darkened a flea market, and I had forgotten the entire subculture that goes along with such places. Bargains seem to be in abundance, though you do have to keep an eye on the fine print (both literally and figuratively). And, even if you haven't a single dollar to spend, it's still a worthwhile place to visit if people-watching holds any fascination for you. You definitely see all kinds.

Anyway, I made it out of there pretty cheap. Got some fresh produce and an old book for my troubles. (Philip Vickers Fithian's journal of life as a schoolmaster in colonial Virginia, in case you were wondering.)

Veering off course can be an okay thing. At least it was today. Hope ye socks are enjoying detours of your own this fine Saturday!

The right to dry

So, I was watching my regular Sunday Morning show on CBS today, when I saw a segment on clothes lines.

Apparently, there's a big brouhaha brewing out in Bend, Oregon, because some happy homemaker out there has taken to stringing clothes lines in her back yard.

She's not just trying to take advantage of the fresh summer breezes, but to save money and the environment at the same time.

But, some of her neighbors are seething, sneaking onto the poor woman's property in the dead of night to cut her clothesline to ribbons.

Nice, huh?

I have to confess that I do most of my clothes drying in my conveniently climate-controlled laundry room.

But, I do have a clothes line in my back yard. It's a really cool one, at least in my opinion, because one half of the support comes from a grapefruit tree. And, especially this time of year, I like to hang ye olde bed linens out there so they can capture a little of the aromatic Confederate jasmine that drifts across the street from the neighbor's yard.

So, today, while my socks and other bits of personal attire shall remain indoors, I have resolved to show my solidarity for that poor lady in Oregon by airing some of the other laundry around here . . .

Taming the jungle

If any of ye socks had asked me twenty years ago about my feelings toward yardwork . . . especially on the weekend . . . the answer would have been far different than it is today.

Back then, it was all about forced labor on a dusty, Texas-sized parcel of land.

The infrequent reward was a ten dollar bill. More often than not, however, I was told to be thankful for the roof over my head and three squares a day.

Oh, how times have changed.

Nowadays, I actually enjoy working in the yard. At least, early in the mornings. Any other time of day, and it's just too hot in this little corner of heaven.

I guess one of the reasons I've grown to enjoy it so much is because it's one of the few times left in this hectic world where I can unplug. I'm no longer the slave of a computer or cell phone, just the unruly botanical encroachments on my (thankfully) postage-stamp sized patch of green.

Lately, I've been trying to fight the war out there with "earth friendly" tactics. I use a push mower and edge with a hoe. Both, are decidedly less convenient methods, but I can use the exercise. And, in addition to the cut in carbon emissions, I'm enjoying the reduced fuel costs and decibel levels around here.

Also, I've been trying to use organic methods to ward off the annoying little sprouts that creep up between my brick walks. Unfortunately, they have been a decided failure, requiring yours truly to get down to the bruising and scraping task of trying to fight the battle mano a mano.

I get a lot of thinking done out there, though. At least until the neighbors start waking up for their morning strolls. They either want to chat or let their canine companions christen my horticultural palate. A few interruptions like that, combined with the growing intensity of the Florida sun, generally drive me back indoors well before lunch time.

Such is the state of affairs on this particular kick-off to the weekend . . .

Summer has officially arrived

I know, according to the calendar, summer arrived some time ago.

And, according to ye olde thermometer and the humidity it arrived *quite* some time ago in this little corner of heaven.

But, it wasn't official until last night's debut of Big Brother, my summertime guilty pleasure.

I don't know why I can't tear myself away from this train wreck.

Every summer, I get sucked into it--watching it 3 nights a week, even following it online, etc.

Ah, well, I suppose we're all entitled to a little frivolity. Whatever it takes to get thru the dog days . . .

Prediction: the female martial arts expert wins it all this year.

Fire up the blender!

I know it's Summer when the blenders are working overtime down here in Florida. But, it's not that type of blender I'm having fun with today.

I'm talking about the "cliche blender"!!

As any good author will tell you (and I am any good author!), you should avoid using cliches in written works even if you cannot avoid them in general conversation.

But, BLENDED cliches should never be avoided. Instead, they should be encouraged, because they're outright hysterical!

Here are a few of my favorites:

1. Strange bedfellows shouldn't live in glass houses.

2. A fool and his money is a friend indeed.

3. You can take that to the bank and smoke it.

Can any of you socks out there top these?!