What I Would Give for a Heart-Shaped Swimming Pool

Please Indian Summer, be gone. It’s 79 degrees out. It should be 63, at most.  Sweaters, tweed, corduroys, jeans. I long to usher you out with puffy vests and thicker weight socks.  Hot soups and hard-shell squashes. Briskness.  I have a personal rule not to buy decorative gourds or cook anything pumpkin until I’m at least wearing long sleeves.

Leaves are changing color and people are in tank tops. Even though it’s Boston, and nearly October. Last night we used the window unit A/C in the bedroom, and still woke up sweating. This is almost as bad as when it snows in late April.

I take that last one back.  It’s not worth angering the gods of the everlasting northeast winter. But alright already, where is fall?

Now for a non-sequitur.  This song (and accompanying dance moves) is pretty groovy, and at least if the lady gets hot, she can dive into in a heart-shaped pool, which I’m pretending isn’t a hot tub.  Make way, swan boats, I’m coming in.

“Kiss Them For Me,” Siouxsie and the Banshees


Frozen Hoagies

It may be 60 degrees out in the shade, but when you see a pink and white truck with “FROZEN HOAGIES” hand painted across the front and sides, you darn well better stop. Summer isn’t the only time for ice cream, but if you’re hellbent on it being fall, just check out the seasonal flavors – pumpkin, maple, sweet cream, on a gingerbread or pumpkin cookie.

This truck was a new addition to our SOWA stroll, and the 6-people-deep line piqued our interest.  Up close, the details are perfect – the afore-mentioned hand painted lettering, carefully drawn whiteboard signs with the specials, a precocious, whip-smart little boy entertaining customers and answering questions about the product, the pure Massachusetts accent from his mother taking your order, and behind her, tupperware boxes stacked with tower upon tower of fragrant, homemade cookies.

There were some grumbles from the Mr., who had his heart set on a frozen yogurt all week, but they were quickly stifled after we were handed the sweet cream ice cream on gingerbread cookie monstrosity you see pictured above.  In fact, the first bite elicited the following comment: “F*!@% Pinkberry.” (Rest assured that this was uttered far out of hearing vicinity of the little boy, his mother, and all Frozen Hoagie patrons).

An avowed Twitter hater, the Mr. even said he might have to join it just to follow this truck’s feed and find out where it’s parked.  I’m inclined to agree.

It Was a Good Day

BC tailgate – bagels with cream cheese and smoked salmon, our host’s homemade bloody marys with fresh horseradish, and mimosas. The Mr. almost took out five eyeballs uncorking the champagne, but all ended well.  Even though BC lost. It was a beautiful, hot afternoon game and we spent a solid portion of the time observing how the freshman look more prepubescent every year.  Or perhaps we’re just getting old?

Afterwards we had a late lunch at Toscano in Beacon Hill. Go for the food of course, but don’t forget to check out the decor details – gorgeous wooden floors with visible saw marks, hefty silverware (seriously – put the knife tip on something and its weight does the cutting for you), the glowing handcrafted light fixtures and sconces.  Please get the speck pizza if you’re in for lunch or split it as an appetizer at dinner.  Later in the fall and winter they put the rigatoni norcina back on the menu, and let’s just say it involves a heady combination of perfectly al dente pasta, finely ground sausage, cream, truffles… Yet another reason fall is a great, great time in Boston.