We all knew it had to come eventually, but it always seems to come so fast. Yes, it’s time to say an unofficial goodbye to summer. Summer house rentals are up, the school bell is ringing in the distance and the sun is setting a little earlier each day.
What could be better than spending the sendoff sipping an iced coffee while sitting on a beach lounge? How about popping the ring on an icy, spiked canned cocktail? Hear the fizz, take a swallow and fall under the spell of spiked, bubbly effervescence
Here are three of my favorites: (click each title to visit the manufacturer Website)
High Noon sun Sips Vodka & Soda, Grapefruit
Price: $11.99, four-pack of 12-ounc cans
Fugu Black Skimmer Bourbon Highball, From Cutwater Spirits
Price: $12.99, four-pack of 12-ounce cans
Corona Refresca Guava Line
Price: $9.49, six-pack of 12-ounce cans
Whether beaching, boating, picnicking, barbequing, or cocktail partying, get down to sending off the summer of 2019 with a sparkle!
Grab the ice! Pack the cooler and let’s go!
Life is an adventure….journey on!
Scientists tell us that our olfactory system or sense of smell is the most evocative of memories. The fragrance or aroma of coffee brewing brings back many a tale.
I will suddenly see my Aunt Toots sitting at the kitchen table rubbing her eyes as she “focused” she would say waiting for the coffee to be ready.
I hear the sound of fire crackling as I recall my future husband and my first camping trip together. We tented thru a deluge and I wonder if it hadn’t been for that morning cup if we’d be married today.
I laugh again as I recall my Outward-Bound sailing adventure where our female captains would brew “coffee to wake the dead” as we cruised the Maine coastline and bonded thru fog and swell.
There have been cups cried into at the mourning of family and friends. But mostly, the
smell of coffee speaks of love and possibility, of hope and adventure and ultimately love.
Please feel free to share one or more of your cherished coffee memories with us. We would love to hear them.
Sea & Skye
On each Fourth of July evening for my entire childhood, while me and my cousins ran with sparklers, caught fire flies in a jar, and roasted marshmallows in the embers of the charcoal fire, my father would boldly proclaim in all of his Irish charm, “Fourth of July the summer is over!” This announcement would momentarily stop us in our tracks before we called back, oh no, it’s just beginning! And we would carry on relishing in the excitement of the many summer enjoyments ahead. We were sure there would be more beach days, weekend barbecues, summer guests and late-night storytelling to come. And there was.
For some reason my father’s announcement always startled me. I still remember how it sent a chill down my spine. What did he mean? What omen did the message carry, if any? My father was a knowledgeable man, a man of deep thought and maybe most importantly to my feeling of shocked wonder, a man who focused on and understood the passing of time. There had to be more to it than Irish folklore or a teasing, torment to our fun for him to make such a declaration. It haunted me.
Decades later, after the 2019 Fourth of July, as I sit on my deck sipping my very early morning coffee overlooking the property, I notice the first bloom is off the flowers in the many beds, tiny yellow leaves float down on the manicured lawn and the cicadas chirp their long song to the heat of the morning, it comes to me! There is a seasonal transition taking place! Although there will be a second late summer bloom in the flower beds and many more trips to the beach, family barbecues, and weekend visitors, summer is not over, but she is surely winding down.
As I sit and sip, I begin to ponder how this transition applies to life, my life, and the secret message unfolds. The wonders and the excitement of the beginning of a season and the promise it holds, its first bloom; and then almost unnoticeably, a quiet transition begins to take place, if it is recognized, that signals a turning point, an ending of sought that offers the opportunity for a marvelous second bloom within the same season.
In the slight breeze that begins to blow, I hear my father’s voice whisper softly in my ear, “Fourth of July, the summer is over.”
Here is something to watch over a cup of coffee!
Our own Sea & Skye speaks about the resurgence of whales.