Yesterday we had a very satisfying day. Inspired by the excuse to make something summery and special, Mike and my mother decided to dust off the ice cream maker and make some ice cream. We spent the first half of the day battling the hordes at the grocery store to purchase ice, salt, and cream, then sat around through the afternoon drinking beer to the soothing purr of the ice cream beaters. I mixed some potatoes, boiled eggs, bacon, mayo and avocado into a potato salad, put the fresh corn on to boil, and my mom grilled up some steaks. Mike was happy, because there is nothing he likes better in the world than meat, corn, and ice cream (throw in my famous potato salad and he's all smiles).
Mike ran off to work with a full belly, while Gavin and I sat down on the curb outside to watch our noisy neighbors set off fireworks. Gavin was interested and concerned at first, but as soon as a spinning firework exploded into a shower of sparks which caused the neighbor kids to jump back screaming, he cried and pulled me by the thumbs back indoors, shutting the door behind us. For the rest of the evening, every time he heard a crackle or bang, he frowned and pulled us away from the windows. As he nursed to sleep, he whimpered sleepily and covered his eyes at every pop. Thankfully, he is a sound sleeper.
Mike came home at around 1am, and woke early to attend an RSCDS meeting. As he measured the cupboard doors (one of the RSCDS members is selling us wood for new cabinets) he told me about a phone call he received at the theater. An elderly woman had called to ask about Fahrenheit 9-11, and had gone off about how deeply she loathed Dubya, ending a half hour later with the announcement that all politicians are actually lizard aliens (you can tell by the way they cock their heads while they talk) and that one day they will awake in their true forms and reveal themselves to us all. At least, that's what she prays every night. Mike likes his job sometimes.
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