Big J sidled up to me on the treadmills at Uppercut on Monday, and we discussed our weekends while warming up (so to speak). “I dunno,” he sighed. “I just haven’t felt like doing much lately.”

“Dude,” I said. “It’s the heat.”

And then we proceeded to swing a sledgehammer in the steamy parking lot for an hour. True story.

I’ve talked about it before (earlier this season, even)—the point where summer starts, but the rain hasn’t yet, so it feels like weeks in an overheated trance, waiting for the rain to come and the fever to break. Feels like it should happen late at night, a sudden deluge, the start-of-summer denouement.

Yes, some parts of the area have already had rain, but not me, and this is my movie, dammit.



Taunting easterly thunderhead.

Still, I’m enjoying the pace of the season, thus far. I have finally, finally bid adieu to both “Top Companies” for Biz(941) and our second installment of SEE Sarasota, two big projects that attacked me virtually simultaneously. Now I’m settling in on all the Charity Register updates that I couldn’t get to. It’s appropriately plodding, but not in a bad way, necessarily.

Things feel suddenly slow, but still productive. Instead of having to change into cocktail wear after work and try not to be embarrassing in front of semi-acquaintances, CCB and I are doing the little things: Saturday we made it to Coquina Beach, played catch in the water and made sandcastles before heading to Duffy’s for burgers. We played round three of our U.S. Open weekend Wii golf tournament, then we went bowling with Krazy Kevin. Spectacular in its ordinariness.

We haven’t ramped up to host any big parties in a while—just the “Come on by, watch some UFC, don’t mind our pajamas” hangouts. We’ve started going to the beach some nights after work (it’s especially peaceful in the evening), or just sitting on our porch and watching the sky. The other night, on a whim, we walked across the street to Banana Bob’s, an only-partially-frightening tiki hut in the parking lot of a low-budget Bradenton hotel. Flip-flops and a mai tai; nowhere to be, no car necessary.


Bradenton Beach around 6:30 p.m.

This coming Saturday, after we have dinner with the Deelios at Harry’s, we’re going to walk to a baseball game, sit outside at dusk and enjoy (hopefully) an evening breeze.

I’m looking forward to a week off for the Fourth, shuffling around the house in what will, for a little while at least, feel like an endless loop of schedulelessness. We’ve got no pressing projects at home, either. Our garden’s dead, and for the weeks and weeks of dry weather, the lawn hasn’t needed to be mowed. It’s just laying low, waiting for the rain. I know how it feels.