Here are a few random things that are bringing me much happiness this summer.

But first: I feel like I need to make a Martha-esque disclaimer: “I know you don’t love things! You don’t love things! You love God! And you love people! But you don’t love things!”

Also – just to be annoyingly clear – this is just stuff I really like. No one has asked me to blog about and/or recommend anything on this list. These are products I enjoy and hope you enjoy them, too, but by all means feel free to not enjoy them if that is what will make you happy. Because I am all about happiness.

Well, happiness and bacon. I am also all about bacon.

SO. ALL THAT BEING SAID.

1) A couple of years ago Melanie told me about this lotion, and I prefer it over every other brand. It’s thick, it smells fantastic and it doesn’t irritate my hyper-sensitive skin. And there’s even a travel tube now, which pretty much guarantees that any trip you take will be eleventy-seven kinds of lavender-y awesome.

2) Swim shirts are our friend this summer. Last week I found this one and this one on sale. UPF 50+. That’s a good thing.

I also ordered these swim trunks, which were also on sale and much-needed for a certain child whose legs won’t stop growing.

He’s approximately nine feet tall. Which is quite remarkable considering that he only recently turned six.

3) Okay. Final skin-related thing, I PROMISE. This sunscreen is the best I’ve ever used. Mainly because it doesn’t make my face feel like it’s on fire. And also because it works.

4) A few months ago our friends the FryDaddies gave us this game, and it is SO MUCH STINKIN’ FUN. Plus, it’s small enough that you can throw it in your suitcase and take it on vacation and start some sort of family word-building smackdown. What could be more delightful than that, I ask you?

5) This pizza dough recipe is oh-so-delicious. I’ve tried several other good recipes, but this one is our favorite by a mile.

A bready, carb-loaded mile.

And that’s the best kind of mile there is.

Amen.

A couple of weeks ago when I went to the dermatologist for the Mystery Thing on my leg, the doctor took one look at my fair skin and said, “Oh, we need to do a complete skin check on you. When can you come back for that?” And while what I wanted to say is “Why, why would I do that, WHY, this is just one more opportunity for me to worry about whether or not I HAVE THE SKIN CANCER,” I did the grown-up thing and made an appointment and then stuck my fingers in my ears and sang “LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA” while I waited for the office manager to fill out the appointment card.

Remember: maturity is critical when dealing with medical matters.

So Monday morning I went back to the dermatologist for my skin check, and much to my surprise, I really wasn’t that nervous. I hadn’t seen anything on my skin that struck me as a cause for alarm, and given that I can recite the warning signs for skin cancer from memory (A – Asymmetry! B – Irregular Borders! C – Change in Color! D – Diameter!), I felt like we’d eliminated the greatest threat when the doctor removed the keratosis / barnacle / let’s-never-speak-of-it-again thing back in June.

Well.

The nurse called me back to a room, asked me a few questions and told me the doctor would be in to see me in just a few minutes. I passed the time by reading a brochure for some new product that’s supposed to make your eyelashes grow longer. I guess that since everything is going just SWIMMINGLY in the world these days, somebody in a pharmaceutical lab thought it would be a great idea to cook up a formula to EXTEND PEOPLE’S EYELASHES.

Americans: Tackling The Real Problems. Like Our Eyelashes.

(And please know that in the midst of all my judge-y indignation about the eyelash extension product, I realized that if somebody sent me a free sample, I WOULD TOTALLY TRY IT, so maybe what I really needed to do was to hop off of my soapbox and look in the mirror and realize that on some level I’M PART OF THE PROBLEM, THANK YOU.)

Anyway, the doctor came in, looked at my leg to see how it’s healing, and as she answered a couple of my questions, she started looking at my legs and arms for any of the aforementioned ABCD warning signs. We were making small talk, having a fine time, and as she walked around me to check my back, she took a look at my left shoulder and I KID YOU NOT this is what she said:

“OH MY GOODNESS! THAT has to come off! You’ve got some crazy colors and irregular borders going on back here!”

And all I could do was scream inside my head: “SHE JUST MENTIONED TWO OF THE FOUR WARNING SIGNS! SHE JUST MENTIONED TWO OF THE FOUR WARNING SIGNS!”

By the time it was all said and done, she circled three places on my back (I felt like I was on an episode of Dr. 90210, only without the elective plastic surgery and the doctor wearing sleeveless scrubs), numbed them, then CUT THEM OFF AND PLACED THEM GENTLY ON A NAPKIN so that she could send them off for biopsy. She told me it would probably be the end of the week before they got the results, but in the meantime, just keep some antibiotic ointment on the places on your back! And call if you have any questions! And have a great week!

Clearly this sweet doctor isn’t yet my familiar with my ability to turn even the most routine medical procedure into a life-threatening illness. She’ll learn.

I won’t bore you with the part about how I drove home and was sick with worry and pretty much sat around for the rest of the day watching HGTV and trying not to think about all the what-ifs. I talked and texted with a few friends, and they were very sweet and encouraging and all-around wonderful. But still. You just worry, you know? You try not to. But you do.

Long story endless: yesterday afternoon the doctor’s office called. They got the results back sooner than they expected (thank you, Lord), and everything is fine. The place on my shoulder definitely needed to come off, though – it was dysplastic and didn’t need to hang around. I don’t think I would have ever noticed it if the doctor hadn’t found it. Which is to say: GET YOUR SKIN CHECKED, PEOPLE.

Also: Tuesday I went to the ENT and he fixed my ears and made ’em all happy-like and prescribed some ear drops for me to use for the next seven days.

BECAUSE I AM NINETY.

In conclusion comma I hope every single one of you will go to your doctor for a skin cancer screening because you’ll feel so much better once you do and you know for sure that everything is A-OK.

Even if if means you leave the doctor’s office with three Band-Aids on your back and your suspicious moles laying on a napkin.

Love,
Mamaw

– Carolyn from Canada sent me a link that cracked me up. And in my head I’m calling the link “We’ll Give Thanks More Effectively If You Do Exactly What I Ask.” It’s a must-read.

– PHH left a comment on my most recent bacon post about a tomato pie she’d made, and I was so intrigued that I clicked over to her blog to see if she’d posted the recipe. Lo and behold, she had – and oh my word at the deliciousness. I mean, DO YOU SEE ALL THAT CHEESE? Not to mention that I saw about fourteen other recipes on her blog that I cannot wait to try.

– Amy emailed me last week and reminded me that the new “Glory Revealed” CD is coming out soon. If you’ve been around here awhile, you’ll remember that a couple of years ago I COULD NOT QUIT TALKING about the first “Glory Revealed” CD. I still love it so much. And you can actually listen to full-length samples of four songs on the new CD – just click on the “Listen Here” tab.

(I am now listening to “Wake Up Oh Sleeper” for the fourth time in a row.)

(DELIGHTFUL.)

Several of y’all emailed or commented over the weekend to let me know that I was obviously Deeply Confused about the release date of TLC’s “Waterfalls” because it was in 1995, not 1998, and you know this because YOU HAVE SOME DISTINCT “WATERFALLS” MEMORIES, OH YES YOU DO.

Y’all are totally right. I was totally wrong. It was 1995. It would appear that when I was writing Friday’s post I confused the release date of “Waterfalls” with the release date of “No Scrubs.” I’m not exactly sure why I did that, but my best guess is that it had something to do with a complete absence of fact checking and/or research on my part.

Plus, this is just what happens when you’re on the back side of 30. You rely too much on your memory and start mixing up song release dates because of sheer pop culture overload. The next thing you know I’m going to be calling Janeane Garafolo “Arlene Galapagos” (true story) and somebody’s going to have to order me one of these.

Anyway.

We had a wonderful, laid-back 4th at our house despite the fact that my left ear is so completely stopped up that you could light a stick of dynamite two feet away from me and I would not even flinch. Come to think of it, that was pretty much my exact reaction during Saturday night’s fireworks extravaganza: “Oh, look at the pretty, sparkly explosions! Do they make any noise at all? I don’t hear even the slightest bit of noise! WHAT DID YOU SAY? I’M SORRY, BUT I CAN’T HEAR A THING!”

I tried to get an appointment with my ENT on Friday, but they’d taken the day off for the 4th, so hopefully today will be the day when somebody will drain my dadgum ears and tell me once again that I have unusually small ear canals. Because as you can imagine, when I take Alex to the pool every single day, the first thought that crosses my mind when I take off my swimsuit cover-up is Oh, these other mamas may be “fit” and “toned” and “thin” and “in shape,” but wait! I have unusually small ear canals! I’VE NEVER FELT BETTER ABOUT MYSELF!

Needless to say, it’s a heady confidence that has settled way down deep in my soul.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to call the doctor again. And fold a small mountain of laundry. And go swimming with a child who possesses an an uncanny ability to unintentionally kick and/or splash water straight into my ears no matter where I am on the pool premises. And then continue to say “WHAT? MY EAR IS STOPPED UP!” anytime anyone asks me anything for the rest of my life and forever and for always or at least until the ENT can fix me.

Thank you and amen.

Every single day this week has been essentially the same: tumble out of bed, stumble to the kitchen, pour myself a cup of ambition and yawn and stretch and try to come to life. Or at least that would have been the case if my name happened to be Doralee and I was struggling with how to handle my manipulative, chauvinistic boss.

Nonetheless, the week has definitely been a little on the repetitive side, as evidenced by the fact that yesterday I ended my post with “Happy Wednesday” WHEN IT WAS IN FACT THURSDAY, OH SOMEBODY PLEASE HELP ME I’VE LOST ALL TRACK OF TIME. And while this week really has been an absolutely delightful time for our little family and we’ve enjoyed all manner of summer fun (the second week of Wimbledon always makes for some happy hearts around here), I’m pretty much worn slap out as I sit here and stare Friday in the face.

At least I think it’s Friday.

Of course, my weariness may have something to do with the fact that I haven’t fallen asleep before 2 any night this week. I’ve tried to sleep, but at some point I’ve given up and gotten out of bed and turned on the computer and watched old Michael Jackson videos on YouTube.

(Now that I think about it, aside from the fact that I now watch YouTube instead of MTV, my late nights have basically been like the summer of ’88 all over again.)

(Except that I no longer have bangs that have been teased into the shape of a large carnation, and I’m no longer hoping beyond all hope that Bruce Willis and Cybill Shepherd will realize that they’re deeply in love and want to spend the rest of their lives together.)

(I may have mentioned before that as a teenager I was mildly obsessed with “Moonlighting.” I continue to stand by that choice.)

Anyway, Big Mama and I were emailing back and forth last night, THE NIGHT THAT WAS THURSDAY, and I mentioned to her that we should have recorded a podcast since I’m struggling with quite the case of bloggy block and I don’t have anything to write about and besides that, all the words in all the languages are conspiring against me so that I can’t make sentences. And because Melanie is a selfless friend, she said, Hey, you know you could always post a 4th of July playlist like I’m doing tomorrow.

And I was all, OKAY.

And she was all, PERFECT.

And I was all, DO THE SONGS HAVE TO BE PATRIOTIC? BECAUSE I DON’T KNOW THAT MANY PATRIOTIC SONGS.

And she was all, WHATEVS.

Except that Melanie has never in her whole life said “Whatevs.” I mean, Mel and I like to stay up to date on the pop culture and all, but we try to respect age-appropriate slang-usage limits. And “whatevs” is way beyond our limits. In fact, for women in second half of their 30s, “whatevs” is currently out in the middle of the Atlantic. WHERE WE CAN’T REACH IT.

By the way, it makes me laugh that I asked Melanie so many questions about posting the playlist. AS IF SHE HAD MADE UP SOME RULES.

So. My list. At this point, you must be absolutely beside yourself with ambivalence.

Nonetheless, here are some songs – old and new – that just scream summer to me, even if they have nothing at all to do with summer, but I’m sure at some point I’ve listened to them in the summertime, so hey, THEY TOTALLY QUALIFY.

1) “Hard To Handle” – Black Crowes – This song stops me in my tracks every single time I hear it. It reminds me of being in college and hanging out with my friend Daphne and riding around Starkville, Mississippi with absolutely no destination in mind. Perfection.

2) “Sweet Southern Comfort” – Buddy Jewell – This song will forever make me think of the summer after Alex was born, a glorious time when I was still hormonal enough to bawl my eyes out when Buddy Jewell sang “Sleepy sweet home Alabama / Roll Tide, Roll.” And I’m not even a Crimson Tide fan. But Tuscaloosa’s just about 45 minutes down the road, and that was enough.

3) “A Lot Like Me” – Dave Barnes – Don’t even listen to it if you’re not willing to sing along. And loudly.

4) “Waterfalls” – TLC – “Don’t go chasin’ waterfalls. Please stick to the rivers and the lakes that you’re used to.” Summer of 1998, anyone?

5) “The Wanderer” – Marc Broussard – A glorious summer love song. And sort of mysterious. And oh-so-delicious.

6) “Life Light Up” – Christy Nockels – Apparently my plans for summer ’09 include listening to this song at least three times a day. The chorus makes me want to stand up and jump. But since I normally listen to this song while I’m driving, I resist the urge. You’re welcome.

7) “Your Smiling Face” – James Taylor – Pure sunshine in musical form.

8) “Till You’re Gone” – Gabe Dixon Band – David’s best friend Todd and I have nearly identical taste in music, and when I heard the version of this song that’s on GDB’s “Disappear” EP, I sent Todd an email that basically looked like this: “OH MY WORD AT THE BANGY PIANO AND CLAPPING YOU MUST DOWNLOAD IMMEDIATELY.” And he did. This is but one reason why I love him.

9) “Brandy” – Looking Glass – It’s solid 70s gold, y’all.

10) “Summer Breeze” – Jason Mraz – I’m a sucker for a good cover of classic song, and this totally fits the bill. Plus, I adore Jason Mraz’s kicky quirkiness.

11) “Wild At Heart” – Gloriana – Makes me want to jump on a boat and speed across the water but stop the boat in the middle of the lake when it gets to the part of the song where all the music drops out so that I can lead a small group of people in a unified over-the-head clap-along. Which is all COMPLETELY realistic.

12) “The Star Spangled Banner” – Jennifer Hudson – The older I get, the harder it is for me to sing and / or listen to the National Anthem without my bottom lip getting all quivery. And I think Jennifer Hudson’s version is absolutely gorgeous.

I know. It’s sort of an eclectic list, isn’t it? Feel free to chime in with your own suggestions for the world’s summertime song canon.

Happy 4th, everybody!

One thing that I’ve wondered over and over again during this increase-your-water-intake challenge is if I’m on the low end of the norm in terms of water consumption. I feel like I’ve become more aware of how much water the people around me are drinking, and I’ve realized that I have a lot of room for improvement. My sister and my cousin, for example, drink water by default – unless they’re having morning coffee, they don’t really reach for anything other than water throughout the day. As a certifiable diet Coke enthusiast, taking note of their water habits has been a little bit humbling for me.

But I’m getting better. I really am. And I’ve realized that the more water I drink, the more I want. That lets me know that ultimately soda wasn’t quenching my thirst like I thought it was. Water makes my skin and my hair look better, and seeing as how I’m on the back side of my 30s, I need all the help I can get in that regard.

So as I start to phase out of the “official” challenge, there will very much still be a real-life challenge before me: less Diet Coke, more water. Every single day. Crystal Light Campaign or no.

It’s the right thing to do.