The weather today is gorgeous. The right amount of high 80s, with no humidity. Something to be said for the Pacific Northwest sometimes. And all day, I was struck by how this is one of those days that adventure calls. Blue skies and fluffy Simpsons’ clouds beg you to succumb to them.
If it was still 1989, I’d have declared today a Ferris Bueller holiday. (benefits of a crazy mom, I was always allowed to skip school to work on my tan). I’d have been sitting in my 1972 green convertible VW bug, outside of my friends’ high school. Pony-tailed blonde hair, bikini and sunscreen already on, waiting for the girls to get out of class early for their respective doctor and dentist appointments, On-lookers would be hanging out the window of history class, jealous of our plan. 90 minutes of the Wonder Stuff, the Cure, the Godfathers and Shinehead later, we’d be mixing the vodka and crystal lite lemonade on the beach.
My penchant for nostalgia isn’t all bad.
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