Musings on Summer...

School's out.  I have turned off the weekday alarm on my iPod.  My sleep schedule is already obliterated, as I slip back into my more normal, nocturnal rhythm.  Endless projects lay around me, forsaken for a lovely afternoon nap.  My icebox overflows with the remnants of culinary experiments and the ubiquitous pitchers of sweet tea.  My daydreams are populated by memories; summers of the past.  Southern summers.   Ceiling fans, humidity, stifling heat, cold sweet tea with condensation running down the sides of the glass.  Steamy sidewalks after evening thunderstorms.  Lawn chairs on the floating dock, checking crab traps in between songs on the radio.  More recently, Sand Gnats games, back yard barbecues, fried shrimp and bottles of beer.  Best friends.

My summers are different now.  But every once in a while I read something that takes me back to my childhood, or at least my precious days living in the glorious South.  I came across one of those things this morning on my Facebook page.  A friend of mine, Damon Fowler, wrote a piece on Paula Deen's website about the endangered future of traditional southern cooking.  Well, actually, the piece was about how important it is to preserve the traditional southern dishes, prepared in the past by our mothers and grandmothers.  You really should go read it for yourself, here.  After I read it, I was very thankful I get to fly home for a few days next week, to visit and cook with my own mom and best friend, Di.  I plan to eat as much fresh, local seafood as I can get my hands on.  I promise to sit with a glass of sweet tea and have meandering conversations with life-long friends (about topics such as the original colors of jello).  And I promise to record as much of it as possible here, so whenever I get homesick, I can bring this post up and get a little fix, until the next time I can fly back to the place my soul never really left.