Summer Insomnia, August, and Another Boring Taco Update

Summer Insomnia happens to me every year. Think about it: The winter sun sets here at the 45th around 4:45 pm. We stay up another 6 hours in the dark before we head off to snuggling and sleep. In the summer the June-July sun sets at about 10pm and it's light for another 45 minutes before we need flashlights and bug spray. My body is used to staying awake hours after it gets dark--the only remnant of winter that lingers into the summer--and so it happens that at 2 am at any given night during the summer months I am still wide awake. 

What do I do? Fortunately (and unfortunately) I am sort of unemployed in the summer. Because I have a certain amount of flexible time, I do what comes naturally to one who appreciates Spanish culture: I take afternoon siestas whenever I can fit them in.  Nevertheless, I am wired in the summer. Awake at 4:45 am when the first birds begin to call and up until well past midnight. By August I finally start to settle in and pure exhaustion, from immersing myself in Vitamin D all day long, causes my sleep to be deep, however short in duration it may be.

And so here we are. We are in August. Dog days of summer: Our tans are now mottled due to mosquito bites, hiking scratches, road rash. Thanks to the intense heat and humidity we are frizzy, and oily all at the same time.The yard is now ragged; forget about edging at this point. Lilacs, irises, daffodils--their blooms are long over. The foliage is overgrown. The hostas somehow took over the sidewalks. Summer insomnia has taken its toll and we all look kind of tired, don't we?  It's tempting to give in to crankiness--to start wishing for (Heaven forbid) Autumn. 

Before you start jumping back onto the pumpkin-spice bandwagon, just stop. The most amazing time of the season is right here, right now: Have you noticed all of the butterflies? Have you checked the undersides of milkweed leaves for monarch eggs, noticed the crescents chewed by the caterpillars into the leaves? Have you watched the fledgling robins awkwardly making their way low across your lawn, tilting and wavering as they try to ascend, their parents goading them on from the branches of their home? And look how big the goslings have become! Their plain gray forms have transformed, and they are now smaller copies of their moms and dads. Have you yet to lay back, lift your eyes to the summer blue and allow your mind to define the images waiting to be captured in the cumulus clouds so typical of an August day?

Are you planning to congregate at your local summer festival or state fair, sweating and trudging shoulder to shoulder with your Community through the 4H barn, eating your greasy food off of a stick, waiting in the sun for your turn at the porta-john? Have you hung that hammock and immersed yourself in that book you had wanted to start? Have you taken a photo of a sunrise and then the subsequent sunset that happened on the same day? Did you grab a camping chair and head down to the park to hear a concert at the local band shell? Are you sure you're truly tired of summer already? Because I, for one, am not. Let's put off Labor Day for another month, please. Embrace today's wonder.

Taco update: 

Tacos that capped off July: The Filmore,  a taco truck...And more 'Rio' in Hudson, of course.

If you need more suggestions to keep you present here during the best part of summer: How about tacos?  Make some. Share some. Bring some. Communal tacos.

My most recent taco experiences were spent in Manistee, Michigan. I ate at 2 different venues two days apart. The Filmore is a smallish but stylish eating establishment with exposed brick walls and visible duct work in the 10 ft ceiling of the 100+ year old bldg that houses it. For about $12.99 I received two white fish tacos with a side of Spanish rice. Lightly breaded with red cabbage, pico de gallo, and a thousand island type sauce. A pretty presentation.  Sounds delish, does it not? It would have been were it not for the tortillas. Friends don't let friends microwave the s##t out of their tortillas. "Dear Filmore of Manistee, please don't ever do that again. Sincerely your friend, Julie".

About 48 hours later I happened upon a taco truck. I ordered an avocado taco that came on a paper napkin and paid less than $5. Guess what? They make their own tortillas right there in the truck and they grill them. The Taco-Bout-It truck. OHMYGOSHITWASTHEBESTTACOEVER. I'm here to say that clearly the tortilla makes the taco. It wasn't even a fish taco.

Back in Hudson a week later I brought my favorite human to Rio Loco Cantina. It may not have been his favorite meal, but it's always mine in my home town. "Dear Rio, thank you for never microwaving your tortillas, and would you be bold enough to attempt making them from scratch in your own kitchen at some point? And then grill them. Sincerely your friend, Julie".

Photo of swallowtail courtesy of Dr Gary Bird (aka favorite human), Spring Valley, Wisconsin