No one really wants to hear about the weather in a blog post, unless it’s raining grasshoppers or something else unusual, but it’s stupidly hot in Michigan. I always forget that September really is still summer, despite my dreams of frost on the pumpkin.

I’m grumpy because of the heat and what felt like a short weekend mostly spent, it seemed, preparing for another work week. Nobody tells you that once you’re a grownup, a 40 hour work week is just the tip of the iceberg. You also need to count hours spent commuting and doing laundry and grocery shopping and food prepping and all that other stuff just so you have your shit together just to spend all those hours at work.

Regardless, there are always highlights. Brandon and his cousin got his shelves installed, and Emmett promptly had to crawl all over them to investigate.

Saturday night we walked down to our local 1920’s-era movie theater, which is a thriving contributor to our little Main Street, offering live music out front on summer weekend evenings and $5 shows for not-quite-second run films. We saw “Once Upon a Time in Hollywood”, Quentin Tarantino’s reimagining of the Manson Family murders. It was a bit bloated, but I can’t remember when I’ve enjoyed a movie more in the past year or so. I’ve done a lot of reading about that timeframe and being able to see the Spahn Ranch, Cielo Drive, etc – or at least reasonable facsimiles thereof – was fascinating. I loved both Brad Pitt and Leonardo DiCaprio in their roles, and seeing faces like Timothy Olyphant and Bruce Dern in cameos was fun, too. Sharon Tate was miscast, and although Tarantino admirably restrains himself from his usual penchant for gratuitous violence during 98% of the film, the 2% in which he lets loose and indulges himself is pretty stomach-churning. Despite that, a very fun film, and we stopped off at our local corner bar to have a drink and decompress before walking home. I love that about our little village- Main Street’s bars, restaurants, movie theater and library are just a short walk away.

We went for a run that was supposed to be 10 miles but only ended up being 8, just due to our schedule, and Miss L and I hit up the season’s first vintage toy & collectible show. I love these things. The people are awesomely geeky and there are always treasures. I snagged a couple of vintage horror comics and a print of the Creature from the Black Lagoon for my retro horror mantelpiece display.

Pot Roast had another visit to our neighborhood vet last week and after a vitamin shot and another mega dose of probiotics, and another round of antibiotics (“time to pill the Roast” is a common evening statement in our house), she’s on the mend. Pooping in the litterbox is a vastly underrated skill in a cat that you don’t admire as much as you should until they don’t.

Hope you’re all enjoying your early week thus far.

xo