The air smells of summer today, of picnics and barbeques and popsicles.  I can hear children playing outside and, again, the click-clicking of the blinds in the breeze.  This morning, after strawberry muffins in the bay window and a discussion about our planned 4th July party, we drove to Sainsbury’s with the windows down, singing to “Waiting in Canada” and “Mend” and laughing at the careless happiness of things.  Grocery-shopping trips are rarely carefree events, but this one was especially to fuel our movie-night tonight.  We bought dips and red pepper, chips and Mexican food.  It’s just the two of us, but we figured that shouldn’t mean we can’t have a little Saturday-night party.  

Various sections of the newspaper are strewn about my feet in the living room and jazz is playing on the iPod.  The road outside is finally quiet now that the football is on – England v. Portugal, I have been told – which for us is a welcome break from the sunny Saturday bustle in the courtyard outside.  

I am becoming more and more frustrated with my country now that Wimbledon is the only viable alternative to the World Cup, the Times is criticising Pixar and Disney in one edition, and you can’t get a good meal out without a hassle.  Those are just three instances of a larger issue, a longing to pack my bags and move back to the States to somewhere relatively unknown.  Lori and I had a long discussion yesterday at dinnertime, sitting in the sunshine by the river Exe eating pub chips and chicken, about the relative wonders of working for Disney.  We are dreamers at the moment, and we are trying to stay optimistic.

I’ve been brainstorming ways to “theme” Tuesday with Americana.  Of course, being in England presents its own challenges.  There’s no Wal-Mart aisle full of red, white, and blue (which may seem ironic in a country whose flag is also red, white and blue, but everything is World-Cup themed at the moment), so we will have to improvise. I’m going to head for a fabric store in town either tomorrow or Monday to see if I can find anything with stars and stripes.  Failing that, I’ll buy some string and we’ll print out flags to make bunting.  I found a recipe online for a stars and stripes cake (blueberries for the stars; strawberries for the stripes; whipped cream for the white background).  Showers are predicted so we probably won’t barbeque outside (which would involve buying a barbeque), but we filled our suitcase with barbeque sauces from the States so we can still marinade.  Do I sound a little over-enthusiastic?  I think Lori thought I was serious when I insisted on at least five renditions of “O say can you see….”, but she managed to bring me down to just one with hand on heart ;-)

I’m trying to write myself out of a slump I have been in all day that has its roots in my inability to decide what to do with my life.  The jazz helps.

Oh, and never, never, play “Lucky Balls” on addictinggames.com.  You will never get your life back.