Summertime BINGO

gas station ice cream, trashy novels, and picnics everyday

Your AI-free reminder that you can find or create joy while also feeling fear, rage, despair, and other prickly crap.

Welp, we’ve done it, we’ve reached the longest day of the year. We’ve successfully solstice’d and are in planetary summer. Fish are jumping. The cotton is high and all that.

Where I live in the moist, hot American south, (imahine living inside of a dog’s mouth) summer means most afternoons wind down with a blackening of the sky followed by violent thunderstorms (and accompanying tornado watch). Yesterday I could feel my couch vibrating from the rumble of thunder overhead. So far this summer I’ve been caught outside in heavy rainstorms twice. I’m not mad about it. Did I dance in the rain? Kind of. I stood next to the car in the Home Depot parking lot, my cart loaded with flowers, an hysterical torrent of rain bombarding me. The car keys were snug and dry in Hubby’s pocket as he, also dry, strolled through the nuts and bolts aisle. Sure, I sensed the growling, darkening sky but figured we had plenty of time to check out and get home. Anyway, it’s been four days and my shoes are still a bit wet.

My dream house would include a rain watching room. A snug, dry place from which I could perch and take part in all of the sensual fervor of a rainstorm safely and without, say, that pesky lingering wet and rivulets on my glasses. A little misty spray on my face is okay, but I wouldn’t want it to interfere with my book, sketchbook, or tea. Wet dirt, exploding clouds, shrieking trees, sideways rain: I want to be outside with it, but still cozy. Conversely, I’m also quite delirious to snuggle in overseeing a sustained drenching rain, free from meteorological drama, as it refills flower beds, bird baths, puddles, and fountains.

To those of you with rain porches: I will supply baked goods if you provide comfy nooks and bathroom access.

Please enjoy your micro-joy summer BINGO. I want to know what you cross off, what you substitute, what eludes you, what you’ve tried for the first time, what has inspired you.

Joy isn’t going to show up on our doorstep. We’ve got to chase that bitch down and extract whatever we can from her. No…wait. That sounds too violent. We have to scatter seeds. Some we will tend carefully so they grow, some will nestle in cracks in the concrete to come alive when we least expect them, and others will never sprout, but instead lure different joys toward us to snack and nibble on what we’ve tossed about.

Fun fact: I always have a difficult time remembering the difference between storm watch vs warning. I know I’m not alone, So here’s my trick distilled from word of mouth from something my friend saw on the internet a few years ago.

A storm waTch means all of the necessary conditions for a storm or weather event are present. This does not mean the event will happen for you, just that it’s possible. Storm waRNing, however, indicates that there’s above an 80% chance of shit getting real.

Think of it like tacos.

A waTch means you have all of the ingredients to make Tacos. There is no guarantee of Tacos, just recognition of the possibility of Tacos. A waRNing means that there are tacos and they are Ready Now, prepare for guacamole.

waTch=ingredients for Tacos=conditions for event

waRNning = tacos are Ready Now=event is most likely to occur

I’m always open to ideas, suggestions, shenanigans, tomfoolery, collaborations, cheese, snacks, and field trips.

You can find my art here and here. I offer custom workshops and design. I am the proud guardian/custodian of a 17 3/4 year old cheeseburger named Patty.

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words and images © Rubi McGrory 2021-2026