Dear Readers,

I would like to call this my random rambling column; a place to share information with you, the reader, or sometimes just share my thoughts, which might not be much at all. You never know what you will find here, so please come back often to check the site. I will try to entertain you if all else fails, but please don’t expect miracles. Depending on what color my mood ring is, you never know what tone this page will offer. Right now, at this very minute, I am happy thinking of summer.

The ice cream man comes to mind. He has been mysteriously showing up in our neighborhood again after a long absence. Needless to say his timing is bad. BAD! Any respectable ice cream man would not come around the dinner hour. They would not blare their horn and expect kids to blast out the front door, which is exactly what two of mine did, one breaking her toe on the doorframe in the process. She groaned yet still gave chase. She never caught him. A speed demon is what that ice cream man is; speed demon and dinner wrecker. That broken toe cost us a good three-hundred dollars! You know how much Extreme Moose Tracks ice cream you could buy with that?

Now back to other summer things. Hopefully, if you’re lucky, your summer is a marriage of travel and relaxation. Depending on where you live you might or might not have unbearable temperatures. Here in South Texas it’s a given, which reminds me why our family spends much time in and around water. There is Galveston if you like your water warm and wavy or the Frio River if you prefer a cold glassy effect. Our preference is both.

There is nothing more thrilling than being on the beach and having a sandwich plucked right from your fingers by an aggressive seagull, while hordes swirl and swoop above your head as though you are the main course. That only happened to me once. That day we ate in the car. Our family also enjoys combing through shops along the beach. But first we must smell ripe with salt, grains of sand sticking to us as though our suntan lotion were Elmer’s glue. Then and only then can we find tacky seashell thingies to bring home. Later, after we’ve showered and come to our senses, we unwrap each treasure and wonder who those sunburned, sandpapered people were who picked that stuff out and what, if anything, they planned on doing with them. That’s where friends come in. Let them figure out the mystery. Many a steamy summer day has been whiled away on the beach, building sandcastles, riding waves, or just protecting sandwiches from seagulls.

Now the Frio River is a whole other story. The area reminds me of the Buffalo River in Arkansas, with its limestone cliffs and crystal cold water. If you’ve never been to either please put them on your must do list. First let me tell you about something we saw on the Buffalo, and then I’ll get back to the Frio.

Canoeing on the Buffalo River, my husband Bob and I passed another canoe, a lady sitting high up on a chair and painting her fingernails. Her husband was single-handedly getting them through rapids and all manner of crazy water, while she remained atop her throne, her only concern not smudging her nail polish. Our driver later said, “Did you see that queen sittin’ on her chair and polishin’ her fingernails?” The driver shook his head. “I’ve never seen nothin’ like that.”

I smiled at my husband and hiked my eyebrows. “Don’t be getting any big-headed ideas,” he told me.

Okay, I’ve run out of time. Stay tuned for a Frio River update. I’m sure a story will emerge from the woodwork when we visit in June. Hopefully, it will be something to tickle your funny bone. Please go dig it up and stay tuned.

Happy summer!

Dorraine