by Bella Rum
Monday was a beautiful and rare day for July. It was 81º and the humidity was only 55%. We ran a few errands. I opened the sunroof and turned the radio to the 60s channel on Sirius. I nearly recaptured that feeling of living on the Outer Banks in the summer of ’68. It’s remarkable how music can stir memories. I almost felt my bare feet on the hardwood floors, and the night ocean breeze wafting through the dance hall while the band blasted away. That summer was my first taste of parentless freedom, and was by far the best summer I ever lived before I became a bona fide adult.
Now that July is here, the horses love to go into the small patch of woods on the right side of the back of our fence. I guess it’s cooler there. We can see their tails swaying and hear their gentle neighing occasionally.
Last week, another horse showed up. He has a blond mane and seems to be making friends nicely with the others.
I no longer need to buy more hangers after cleaning out one rack in my closet. I was running low on clothes hangers, but now I have a lot of extras. I took a big bag of shirts to Good Will. I had less difficulty culling the smaller sizes than I usually do. I’ve moved from denial to reality. While I have and will continue to lose pounds, I will never be small enough to wear some of those smaller sizes. Onward to the pants rack. It always feels so good to declutter.
We drove down to Williamsburg yesterday. We stopped at the outlets a new pair of cross training shoes and a couple of shirts for H. A teenager with a face that would stop your heart and long, beautiful, curly hair waited on us. She started talking about her “Grumps.” She said he told her lots of funny stories about his youth and his service in the Army. She boasted that he was still doing one-armed pull-ups at 80, and had fully restored a 64 Spitfire, and was now working on a vintage Jaguar. She said she hangs out with him in his garage to listen to his stories. I thought to myself, this guy really has the secret to life. How many old guys have 17-ish granddaughters who burn the ears of strangers talking about how cool their Grumps is. Staying active and interesting is the ticket. Also, I suspect he’s a pretty charming guy. An ounce of charisma is worth a pound of good looks.