Past Blogs

I am fully aware that a sunset is merely a sunrise in reverse. But I have a definite affinity for the former, perhaps because I’m not at my most alert in the A.M. hours.

Enjoying the splendor of a sunset is exclusively a human thing. I can’t gather the cats on the front porch at twilight to have them appreciate the beauty of the sun’s descent. They only focus on the stirrings of small, nocturnal creatures.

So it is up to us human types to gather on beaches and porches applauding the sun’s nightly show. In some locales, Hawaii and Key West to name two, bagpipers magically appear to pipe down the sun. These gatherings are free and, as of now, blessedly devoid of corporate sponsorship.

One of my favorite authors, Fannie Flagg, has her fictional characters in Elmwood Springs, Missouri, form a Sunset Club.

For years, every evening the same group… all brought their lawn chairs to Elner’s yard and sat and talked and watched the sun go down.

Here is a conversation between two octogenarian Sunset Club members from her book Can’t Wait to Get to Heaven.

That night everyone had gone home after watching the sunset, except Tot and Elner, who were still sitting in the side yard talking about the good old days. Elner asked Tot, “Do you remember that maple syrup that used to come in a little tin house, looked like a cabin?”

“Oh yeah. And remember that three-in-one rainbow, pink and blue and white coconut candy? And that brown bread that came in a can?”

“Hell,” said Tot, “I’m so old I still remember learning to read from those little Dick and Jane books they used to have. I guess old Dick and Jane are headed for the old folks’ home now… along with Nancy Drew, and the Rover boys. Little Orphan Annie must be a hundred and eight by now.”

Elner looked over. “Hey, Tot, I have a question for you. Do you ever have any regrets in life?”

Tot looked at her as though she had just lost her mind. “Regrets? Me? Oh, other than having an alcoholic for a father and an insane woman for a mother, marrying James Whooten, the biggest fool on the earth, and breeding two mutants, then marrying another man who dropped dead on our honeymoon… no, why?”

Maybe we all need to start our own sunset clubs.

Blanche DuBois in A Streetcar Named Desire relied on the kindness of strangers. My husband and I find that relying on the kindness of family and friends is much more reliable. For instance, our TV died 25 years ago and neither of us had any desire to replace it. After several months of being a TV free household, our teenage son asked if we would object if he bought a TV for his room. Of course we didn’t, and he used his own funds to purchase a set. Knowing that we liked vintage Sherlock Holmes movies with Basil Rathbone, he kindly offered to let us watch his TV. Tongue in cheek, he suggested that he should place a cup on top to be used for a freewill offering. Of course, the cup never materialized.

At the present moment we are indebted to our cat for air conditioning. When we built our lake home, we viewed air conditioning as superfluous. The big lake is our air conditioner. However, we did have to install a small window air conditioner in the cat’s room.

We take a trip every August. The winds here get so intense that the screens sometimes blow out during violent storms. We couldn’t safely leave with the windows open or closed. We didn’t want the cat sitter to find a fried or missing cat. The room air conditioner was the solution.

So on those rare sultry, summer nights, we slink down to the cat’s delightfully cool room to sleep. She always welcomes us in.

In three years of writing blogs I have failed to address the topic of ice cream. This egregious oversight must be corrected; after all, what is life without ice cream? Ice cream certainly is one of the ten most important contributors to a happy life.

Many years ago a friend made me a poster with a quotation from William Faulkner, “I can’t imagine no tragedy worse than being burnt out on strawberry ice cream.” I concur and always follow the rule, “No ice cream before 5:00PM.” (Vacation time excluded.)

My husband and I once had a spectacular 14 year run of nocturnal ice cream eating. Every Friday for all those years we drove to Leon’s, our local drive-in custard stand, at 11:30PM. Leon’s sensibly stayed open until 1:00AM. Below zero nights did not deter us.

When we approached the window, we didn’t have to order. The employees all knew us and just started scooping two big butter pecan cones and pouring two coffees. No one could possibly make butter pecan, laced with whole salty pecans, better than Leon’s. We would relax in our car, enjoy the cones, sip coffee and watch the lines of people.

Cars arriving with dogs were the best. Leon’s gave free kiddie cones to all dogs visible to the countermen. Cars would pull up with ecstatic, drooling dogs bouncing around the back seats and panting out the windows. These dogs knew what was coming.

For canines and people alike, the joys of ice cream are summed up by this fading sign painted on a barn near our house.

When our son was in high school, he was asked to fill in his religion on a school information form. He listed himself as “Druid”. We are definitely not a family of Druids; however, I admit that my thoughts do stray to ancient cultures as the summer solstice approaches.

Druids, Celts, Chinese, Incas and many others marked the summer solstice with great gusto. They erected monolithic rock structures, pyramids  or temples. Bonfires were lighted, ostensibly to add to the sun’s energy. Dancing was rife, and magic was thought to be afoot.

The summer solstice, also known as Midsummer or St. John’s Day, is the first day of summer with the longest day and shortest night of the year.

The Druids created Stonehenge, that immense rock garden whose main axis is aligned on the Midsummer sunrise. They viewed the day as “the wedding of Heaven and Earth”. We can thank the ancients for our present penchant for June weddings and the word “honeymoon”. The Midsummer moon was called a “Honey Moon” for the mead made from fermented honey that was consumed at solstice wedding bashes.

Steeped in semi-gloom or darkness for most of the year, Nordic people regarded Midsummer as a paramount event. To this day Midsummer poles decorated with flowers and greens are a common sight in Scandinavian countries. Sweden, especially, is awash with weddings and feasting. An old custom advises that young girls should collect seven flowers and put them under their pillows to dream about future bridegrooms.

In the Americas, the Inca people regarded themselves as “children of the sun”. It’s been over 500 years since the conquest, but Quechua-speaking people of Cuzco still gather to witness the arrival of the sun’s first rays on the solstice. A trapezoidal doorway set into huge stones directly frames the first light on summer solstice morning.

Americans rarely note the passing solstices and equinoxes. But it might be helpful to pause for a moment on June 21 (12:45AM, CDT) and consider what would happen if the sun, or our little blue marble, stopped acting in predictable ways. Then, break open the wine bottles and toast yet another on-schedule return of summer.