Summer is now almost over, at least as far as my children are concerned. My oldest begins 10th grade on Monday, August 17th, while my youngest will be stuck hanging around the house with me until August, 26th. I am loath to use the word “epic”, but epic is the only way to describe my summer. From a really fabulous show at Winter’s Tavern with Debora Iyall and Girls with Guns, to a month-long vacation in Europe, it’s really been a once in a life time kind of summer and I feel so amazingly grateful and blessed to have experience it.
While I will not bore you with my vacation photos, I will give you a quick excerpt from my journal. Now I must warn you that while traveling through Europe I read Keith Richard’s autobiography Life, and as I tend to take on the voice of the book I am reading, this excerpt is written in the style of – well, Keith Richards. So here is a bit of my summer vacation retold to you as filtered through the literary work of Keith Richards:
In which my family and I take a trip through Europe, Hunter Something requests a great deal of sweets, and Fat Daddy seeks out only the best.
There were the four of us then: Zed, Fat Daddy, myself and Hunter Something, Hunter S. for short. Hunter S. was a complete snack-head at the time, couldn’t go more than a few hours without a hit, even though we kept trying to get him to take to regular meals. It was the sugar. He’d go completely bonkers for it. We tried to keep the whole thing under wraps. No meat, dairy, or any opened foods when crossing borders, but the tour bus rides were long and we learned to put the choco granola bars at the bottom of our bags just to get past customs.
Fat Daddy was useful for keeping him in check too; he was good at playing the heavy, so to speak. Fat Daddy had his own taste in sweets, much more refined than any of ours at the time. He was used to the creme de la creme of dessert and wasn’t settling for the likes of what you get off of your typical food trolley. Of course we made it through London just fine with the sticky toffee and Amsterdam with its stroopwafel worked out quite well. But we got a bad batch of marzipan in Estonia and that took a couple of days to shake off . . .
Estonian marzipan – purely decorative.
Enjoy the rest of your summer. I leave you with a couple of videos of my band at Winter’s Tavern.