With my life the way I live in it, I notice things, phrases, that turn up often. The Bee's Knees keeps popping up seemingly everywhere I turn. It's in the Times, it's the name of drinks, it's new store advertising - what gives?
The Bee's Knees refers to something of excellence or the highest quality. A quote from the 1920's that possibly references the fact that bees carry pollen back to their hive in their legs. Who knew? Yet, others declare that this term lacks meaning, nothing more than a silly rhyme, or the consolidation of the phrase the be all end all. Really?
Flapper speak. Meaningless and filled with meaning all at the same time; in life, sometimes, the meaning MUSTgo both ways. In order to maintain my sanity, I'm willing to admit that things don't always go according to my plan or mean what I think they mean. That other people's needs don't match my own - a lack of synchronicity if you will.
The chef and I leave town to run off camping tonight. My cashmere packed, my flip flops ready, my hat sufficiently crushed under the weight of all other items, I think we're close to packed. I still need to stop and pick up the bottles of rose, the plums, the corn, and my sense of well being. It seems to run off to hide under the bed while I gathered the camp stuff.
Then, Friday night we'll eat under the stars. Nothing fancy. Hot Dogs, chips, salsa, guacamole, salad with goat cheese & plums, roasted corn - call it good. Maybe brownies, if an old man can muster them together. We'll see.
After all, it's summer.