On this single Saturday, I managed to get in a bunch of summer’s best stuff—
I slept in.
As part of the last leg of his 35-mile bike ride, the means by which I believe my boyfriend maintains the greatest pair of legs I’ve ever seen on a dude (I could walk up the stairs behind that man for days), my Jim guy came over.
We went to his house where I jumped on the trampoline with Grace and Blake, Jim’s kickass neighbor kids. After a few unsightly attempts, I stuck a front flip. I haven’t done that in, like, 15 years. (Blake, on the other hand, may have circus performance in his future. Front flip into back flip into twisty flip into back flip an on. I envy that 12-year-old's mad tramp skills.)
Since my Haley-sister, her husband Jon, and their girlies, Adds and Cwaire Bear, were driving through Reno, we met them at at Scheels for lunch, where I ate summer’s own food—chips, iced tea, and a veggie burger. While at the behemoth sports store, Addie wanted to ride the ferris wheel, so we did that.
Next, Jim and I stopped for froyo. Mine was strawberry lemonade. He had root beer (which, until right now, I thought was one word).
Then, babied by a light breeze, we sat on the little couch on his deck, finished our frozen treats, and examined his yard for opportunity areas. Top of the list: the rose bushes around the basketball court. Who the hell puts roses around a basketball court?
When I got home, I made vanilla bean ice cream.
Then I took me a three-hour nap.
Now, after I change a tube on my bike, I’m gonna put my puppy—who I should have named Gidget because, I mean, look at her, it totally works—in the front basket and take the furball for a little ride. She’s liking that now.
How much summer can you fit into one day? Today tells me quite a lot.