Deck the Halls with Boughs of…

…well, portable cooling fans and stick some ice cubes in your bra because

Florida.

Is.

HOT.

The heat index has been reaching triple digits before noon nearly every day and when it isn’t, it’s been darn near close to ’em.

“Triple digits? Big deal. Other places reach those temps. Arizona, for example.” 

Bahaha! HONEY. I’m not saying we have it worse off than other states with high summer temperatures but I will say that when you add a humidity level of 80% each morning, you’re gonna wish you had gills and a tail so you’d never have to leave the water. Sure we don’t usually run the risk of wildfire due to extreme drought and dry heat but at 10am you could walk out the door with your hair dry, clothes fresh and you’ll be drenched in sweat in the 5 seconds it takes to get to your car.

I’m currently writing to you as I sit here, my face the shade of strawberry pop tart filling and I’m quite confident I could grill some burgers on my face cheeks. Who wants cheese on theirs?

Despite the heat, humidity, and this awful burn that is hindering my daily life for the next two weeks it feels like Christmas in my house.

“Yay! The post we’ve been waiting for!”

Yes! The post you’ve been waiting for! (24 hours late. Oops.)

Alright. Who am I kidding? I’ll admit I have an imaginary audience of readers who are just so doggone anxious to read my entries. To the real people who do read my posts, I am truly writing to you… and my imaginary followers. Thanks. Yall the real MVP. Much love. *Mwah* *Mwah* *Mwah*

The reason why I’m tempted to sashay through my house singing “Jingle Bells” is not “Christmas in July.” Actually, I have no idea what Christmas in July is really about or why people take part in it and, quite honestly, I’m a bit too wiped to do any research tonight.

In fact, I’m about as happy now as Ralphie was when he received his long-awaited, extremely coveted Red Ryder BB-Gun on that famous Christmas morning we’ve shared with him countless times via our tv screens. Now that I think about it, he and I share something in common. The gift I received yesterday shoots, too! However, it doesn’t shoot BB’s or pellets.

It shoots frames.

That’s right. It’s a camera! But not just any camera. It’s a Canon T50 and it is a BABE. For those of you who live and breathe cameras, you know just how amazing this ugly, little punk really is. For those of you who don’t, let me give you an itty, bitty information download.

The T50 is a camera that uses 35mm film. It has ONE setting for all your shooting needs; Program. That’s right. It’s a basic b- …well you know. It has many incredible lenses that can be purchased and used with the camera and the amazing thing about it, despite its age and lack of digital features, if used right, it can take pictures that withhold the same quality as those taken with professional DSLR’s.

I know right?!

The three best parts? It was given to me by my great aunt and uncle who said it was their absolute favorite camera. Sooo…

1: It was FREE.

2: MUCH needed and the timing could not have been better as I’ve been itching to get out and shoot some marina landscapes downtown.

3: I now own a wonderfully vintage piece of metal that will always remind me of two of my most favorite people.

I’m quite nervous to see how my latest session turned out as I have not used a film camera since 4th grade and I’m VERY much partial to DSLRs. However, this year has been all about learning new things and having more skills under my belt. I’m up for this challenge and though I shake like a chihuahua when I think about getting the film developed, I’m very excited to learn from my mistakes and press on until I master such a simple yet intricate little machine.

I’ll be sure to share my works online when I get the negatives scanned and transferred to digital files. (Should the pictures actually turn out as planned.) Heck, maybe I’ll throw in some of the mega crap-bag photos just for spite.

Anyway, I really have no idea how to end this entry. I was so excited about this treasure I HAD to write about it even if the only ones to read about it are those I’ve made up in my mind. Thanks for letting me waste your time. I suppose I’ll end with an ENTIRELY unrelated question.

Are any of you absolutely repulsed by the dark brown Chex squares found in Chex Mix? I will literally sit and dig through the bag eating everything but the brown ones. Admittedly, there have been times that I’ve dumped the bag into a giant bowl, picked out all the yucky squares, poured the uncontaminated mixture back into the bag so I could eat it worry-free.

Lemme know what you think about them and how you eat Chex Mix. Perhaps go as far as enlightening me on what your favorite Chex Mix combo is.

I’d love to chit chat with any of you.

I need to wrap this up like I need to wrap up this bag of cheddar Chex Mix I’m tempted to keep reaching into.

 

Until whenever because I am not disciplined in my blogging habits,

CinnamonSghetti

 

 

Advertisements

It’s Not Orange

“What’s your favorite color?”

I can tell you mine.

I can tell you it isn’t the typical red, green, blue, yellow, purple, pink, black, or orange.

I can tell you it is definitely different. It isn’t something you describe in one word but rather many.

I can tell you I don’t have just one and that it changes depending on my mood and the kind of day I’m having.

I can tell you that if I had to answer with a simple word, a basic color, I would say purple. For material possessions, gifts, trinkets, paint… Purple.

I can tell you that for all else my favorite color(s) goes deeper than that of when someone is wanting to know because, for example, it’s my birthday and they are trying to pick out the perfect card.

I can tell you my favorite color is the outpouring of thick, warm, amber light that floods the windshield and every exposed surface around me when the setting sun stops and dangles just above the horizon as I drive home from a long day of work.

I can tell you my favorite color is the rush of summery-sweet, strawberry blood running down your chin that gushes out as you sink your teeth into the juicy flesh of the field-fresh fruit.

I can tell you my favorite color is found when you’re submerged under the cool, emerald Carribean as speckles of a bright sunshine peek through the water’s surface.

I can tell you my favorite color is the dazzling variety of amethyst stone so scrumptious to the eyes it would be devoured by mouth if declared edible.

I can tell you of many colors you never knew existed.

I can tell you of a world so amazing, so taken for granted, so marvelous, so vast. A world full of hues and luminosity and blush deserving of lengthy description instead of a single, lazily worded name.

 

I can tell you it is the world we live in.