Beautiful Sunday

It's a perfect day.
Now that I have a smart phone, I can simply take a picture of my husband enjoying one of his magic books outside and email it to myself. No more hunting for a USB cable for a camera, or plugging in an SD card. Voila.

From now on, I've decided to think twice before posting some silly image from the interwebs, too. Well, until I cave on that...another epiphany from the smart phone world: my phone's gallery, which is a built in app, contains ALL my google-related pictures--anything I've posted on one of my blogs or facebook or whatnot, it's there. And when I started to delete some of them (cuz I don't need ALL my pictures on my phone), guess what? I also deleted them from my blog entries. And since we got a new computer earlier this year, there were some pictures that are not on our back-up stick. . So--they are lost. Slipped through the cracks.  Not many. Live and learn.

Last night's movie was Florence Foster Jenkins, starring Meryl Streep and Hugh Grant. It was excellent. I knew nothing about it before we started watching (Mike picked it), and was delighted that it was serious and poignant as well as funny and improbable. It's a true story, as counterintuitive as that is...

Here I sit, forgetting what I was going to write...this reminds me of that first time we were upgraded to an ocean-front room at that special resort in the Riviera Maya and I just plopped down on the swinging lounger on the patio, a little tipsy from the arrival champagne the staff handed us, and thought, it's all too beautiful. And I just veg out on lovely sunny weightlessness. What have I done today? Some housework, ran an errand, practiced knitting (trying to be patient), read a novel on the couch upstairs, then downstairs, then outside (but not inside out). Onlined--there should be a verb for that time we enjoy/lose/waste doing stuff that involves being connected.

And it's late afternoon on Sunday...almost gin-and-tonic Scrabble time. I enjoy blaming my games on the cocktail. Some of these weekends are fabulous.

Mike will be flying to Bangalore, India in just a couple weeks. One week left in June. Tempest fugit, indeed.

This just in: it's okay that I don't know what frim fram sauce with oss and fay and shifafa on the side is. It's just silly lyrics. Aren't you glad I looked that up?

Whatchaupto?