Out of my Goldfish Bowl

I felt a bit like this fish yesterday.

I could smell the salty sea, hear the orcas yell,

imagine the feel of the slimy sea kelp.

But I was caught in a small plastic bag of

details and duty on the beach.

How do I keep the space passion and purpose require?

How to jump out into the big open wild?

I imagine it looks a bit like this:

And reads a bit like this beautiful piece from a Frenchman:

"If you want to build a ship,

don't drum up people together to collect wood

and don't assign them

tasks & work,

but rather teach them to long for the endless immensity of the sea."

-Antoine de Saint-Exupery

The Seattle Popsicle Truck

Tell me one of your favorite sounds as a kid was the popsicle man.

That tinny music coming round the corner, getting louder and louder, giving you, me, and our friends just enough time to run inside for quarters from mom or grandpa. The popsicle truck would come into view and we would huff and run to be the first in line for the red-white-and-blue rockets, or maybe a fudgesicle.

Sitting outside on Capitol Hill the other day I had a genius idea...I think you'll agree it's brilliant.

An adult popsicle truck.

That plays really great summer music - like The Roots or Musiq Soulchild, or pretty much any R&B from the early 90's - and drives around Capitol Hill giving out real, organic, fruit juice popsicles to the hipsters in their cut-off-denim shorts. Maybe the Popsicle Driver even doubles as a DJ and customers can request songs.

Maybe you can get on the popsicle truck social media page and request a specific song when the truck is coming around your corner!

I imagine the truck being about this big:

But having B&W speakers and much better branding:

I'm imagining the list of flavors printed on the side of the truck now, co-created with Seattle chefs of course:

Peach, Tomato & Basil

Grapefruit, Cucumber, & Cilantro

Lemon & Black Pepper

Pineapple, Lime & Ginger

Mango, Meyer Lemon & Thyme

Blueberry & Terragon

Something co-conspired with Fran's Chocolates of course.

Blackberries from San Juan Island.

You get it.

Would you want this truck to come down your street? Let me know what you think.

Limeade

It's a good man who will take me kayaking through the Arboretum (get me good and parched) and an even better man who then squeezes up a batch of fresh limeade.

(I am head over heels for this little salt dish, the same size as my limes, summer 2011)

I was so thirsty, I didn't take the time to get a photo of the concoction before it was guzzled and gone. Guess you'll have to ask The Non-Scotsman to make you some if you want to see the completed product.