WALKIN', WRITIN', WIT & WHIMSY

I could get used to having an extra hour in my day … and wouldn’t it be great to have an additional 60 minutes on an every-day basis? Yes, keep wishing! I was so much more productive!!! Last night, I never set my alarm clock back and instead used that extra hour to get stuff done. In fact, as of right now, I’ve yet to re-set any of my clocks and find myself counting backward an hour and feeling good about it. How nice the computer self-adjusts the clock. It’s too bad the car clock does not do the same. I don’t drive much in the colder months, and as little as possible in the Winter, so I don’t adjust the time to E.S.T. I used to stash a cheat sheet for re-setting the time in the glove box in my former car and I’ve yet to do that with this one, despite it being four years old. The car manual looks like a small book, so I just keep it simple. Now that it is light again in the morning, I can bulk up the walking time. I was getting dangerously close to my walking miles being neck-in-neck with the car’s odometer setting. I got three miles in today just going grocery shopping and hauling in groceries. One day I shall keep that pedometer on all day for the heck of it and see what I log here, there and everywhere in the house. So, I’m finally sitting down to write today’s blog post and catch up with Facebook and some e-mail. I know I should have factored raking leaves into my agenda, but the leaves in the yard were all wet and still kind of sparse. Give it another week and it will be a worthwhile project. In the meantime, I’m plum tuckered out from walking, shopping and the fresh air on a fine Fall day.

Oh … if only the weather cooperated on the two days we long for – the weekend. Today, with the big Michigan/Michigan State game going on – what do we have? Rah Rah Sis Boom Bah + rain … not a great combo. Though it is now starting to clear, the weather could be better. I’m starting to re-think my statement that Fall is my favorite season if we continue with this fractious weather as still another walk was abandoned this morning.

How about this photo of a mini tailgate event? It looks more like a picnic really. A checkered tablecloth, a picnic basket, a bottle of wine, a loaf of bread and some cheese … all that is missing is “thee”. Now that looks inviting, doesn’t it? But today as the backyard brawl got underway, instead of a hooded sweatshirt with a favorite alma mater emblem emblazoned on it, and a pair of warm mitts for good measure, a poncho was perfect weather gear and an absolute necessity. The tailgate parties no doubt needed canopies on hand to keep the goodies and guests from getting too soggy.

This annual Michigan college football rivalry raises the hackles in some households for sure. In one of the neighborhoods where I walk occasionally, it is a real “house divided” … it is not just the two different garden flags in front of the home – one in green and white featuring Sparty’s face and the other in maize-and-blue with the big “M” on it. Nor, is it the evil-looking college mascot garden gnomes on opposite sides of the neatly manicured lawn seemingly shooting daggers at one another. Even the SUVs that are parked alongside the house have personalized license plates to clearly show each alum’s allegiance to their university. I’m guessing there is a cold chill between the inhabitants of that bungalow today, and it isn’t related to the November temps. But it is all in good fun. I’ve walked by early on a Saturday over the course of the past few months and I’ve seen the guy and gal loading up both their vehicles to the hilt with food and beverages, and hauling BBQs and what may be a steam table. Suffice it to say, it is much more effort than sandwiches and munchies.

I had a boss back in the day who lived for U of M football Saturdays, and he wouldn’t miss a single scrimmage either. Though Bob Ufer was long gone by then, my boss was friendly with his sons and kept Ufer’s spirit alive for them by recollecting and reciting significant football play-by-play calls made by their dad. He was best buds with Bo too. I think maize and blue blood coursed through his veins. He went to undergrad and law school at U of M and got a letter for track, and he would speak of his glory days as an athlete back at U of M like it was yesterday. It was kind of hard to imagine him as an athlete with his rotund shape … no, roly-poly would be a more-accurate description. In his later years he lived to eat and he hardly resembled the photos of that skinny-as-a-rail track-and-field star that hung all over his office walls.

Yup, the Beach Boys got it right in the song “Be True To Your School” … https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2X4DuxWUlwM … hold onto those glory days and keep the faith – sometimes it is all you’ve got.

Well, with a mere flip of the calendar, we’ve now dispensed with Halloween and today we pack away the inside and outside decorations (unless they blew away last night) then head to the store for half-off on our favorite bags of fun-sized candy bars. The deep discounts are so the stores can get more room to display the rest of their Christmas wares which are waiting in the wings. As I wrote about earlier in the Fall, the holidays all seem to morph together – Halloween departs and the next day, Christmas treats and treasures are there to buy as the holiday season kicks into full gear. The arrival of Santa and his crew at the malls is already being advertised, in fact, unbelievably, Oakland Mall welcomes Santa tonight with fireworks and fanfare. The local radio stations are set to launch solid Christmas music 24/7 within days. The print and broadcast ads will soon feature the countdown of how many shopping days are left ‘til Christmas. And pray tell, where does Thanksgiving Day configure into the respective retailers’ mix? I don’t know why, but somewhere along the way Thanksgiving has become diminished as a holiday … just lost in the cranberry sauce. It now seems to serve as the mere kickoff to the shopping season. How sad. I also fear that soon the Thanksgiving get-together with loved ones will become a tradition from the past, as the gathering is abandoned in favor of a dash to the mall to get the Gray Thursday bargains at Macy’s when they open at 8:00 p.m. Now it seems those Thanksgiving night deals supersede the Black Friday crack-of-dawn bargains or Cyber Monday extravaganzas. Sales is not a profession where workers are needed on holidays, like first responders or hospital personnel. I guess I don’t get it. Now someone has to forego a holiday meal or gathering to go into work. Why not just bypass Thanksgiving all together and maybe we could celebrate it sometime in January when it is more convenient, or when everyone experiences the post-holiday-season blues, but well before the hype of Super Bowl Sunday of course. It’s very disheartening that so much emphasis on shopping has taken away the joy of time spent with family and friends or gathered around the big bird and all the trimmings at the dinner table. Soon, a quick ham sandwich in one hand and the car keys in the other will replace the traditional Thanksgiving agenda as you dash out the door to catch the fantabulous deals at Macy’s, Walmart or Best Buy. Forget the slice of just-made pumpkin pie, just stop for a pumpkin latte before heading home – surely, one of the coffee specialty joints will be open. Too bad that because we’re frugal or just want a great deal on electronics, we’ve lost the tradition and spirit of the holiday.

Well, look at it this way – not just the retailers and shoppers are happy; Tom Turkey gets a reprieve as well.

Well, Halloween is finally here, complete with its own very real weather special effects. You just can’t make this stuff up. There are predictions of thunderstorms and howling winds gusting to 45 mph for the evening hours – well, you can’t get much more realistic than that for the spookiest night of the year. I wonder what this witch has got mixin’ up in her magic brew? Maybe she is stirring up some “Friendship Tea”. I’m sharing my mom’s recipe for “Friendship Tea”, sometimes called “Russian Tea”… the ingredients and prep are simple and it yields 40 servings. It’s perfect to warm your innards on a cold Winter day.

Do be sure and catch today’s Google Doodle with the wicked-looking witch stirring up something green and mysterious in her big cauldron. Further, on the subject of witches, my old college pal, Jim Mulleague, called the late local celebrity “Good Witch Gundella” mom. Jim was also famous in his own right; he and a friend have had a gig as Laurel and Hardy for decades. Jim is the spittin’ image of Ollie Hardy and somewhere in my collection of scrapbooks and albums, I have a picture of him and I at our student government banquet and I will scan it in and post it one day.

Be forewarned: if you’re flying tonight, hold onto your broom handle tightly. Happy Halloween everyone!

FRIENDSHIP TEA
1/2 cup instant tea powder
1 cup sweetened lemonade powder
1 cup orange-flavored drink mix (e.g. Tang)
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon ground cloves

Directions
• In a large bowl, combine instant tea, lemonade powder, orange drink mix, cinnamon and clove. Mix well and store in an airtight container.

• To serve, Put 2 to 3 teaspoons of mix in a mug. Stir in 1 cup of boiling water. Adjust to taste.

• Makes 40 servings

It’s Halloween Eve, so what an ideal time to venture into the occult just a tad.

Every year, mention is made by the news media of the 1938 CBS broadcast of “The War of the Worlds” which was Orson Welles’ orchestrated event wherein he used fake news bulletins to create an extraordinarily eerie depiction of a Martian invasion here on Earth (in New Jersey). One day I will listen to the whole extravaganza on YouTube as I’ve only heard bits and pieces through the years, mostly those very convincing portions which sent panicked people fleeing for their collectives lives. It sure sounded convincing to me, at least for that particular period of time, maybe now, not so much. You can listen to the full, crackly and tinny-sounding broadcast by clicking here.

I’ve not ventured much into the world of the occult in my lifetime. Sure, there were spooky Halloween parties we had for our Brownie troops, when the lights went out and you went to a table to feel such squeamish items like body parts – icky, realistic livers, fingernails, eyeballs, bones and the like, inviting each of us young girls to let out a blood-curdling scream.

I also remember gathering as a group in the schoolyard at recess while one of our classmates sprawled on the ground as we all closed our eyes to will her body to be levitated into the air.  Yes, you are shaking your head for sure after reading that.

Or, how about a group of girls at a slumber party sitting around in curlers and jammies and trying to reach Great Aunt Edna at a pretend séance?  None of these experiences came to fruition of course and we soon tired of all that nonsense.

Be honest now and just ‘fess up … who didn’t sit with a friend trying to tell your future through the little window in the Magic 8-Ball or decide what action to take based on what the Ouija board said to do?  Yes, we’ve all been there, but maybe don’t care to admit it now.

I enjoyed watching spooky tales on “Twilight Zone” or “Night Gallery” back in the day, not just for the spooky tales narrated by Rod Serling, though they weren’t all that realistic, though, as a long-suffering arachnophobe, I shuddered watching that episode of the gigantic spider – silly girl!

I will admit that psychics left me a doubting Thomas ….

Years ago, when my mom was in her early 20s, she and my grandmother went to The Daffodil Tea Room in Toronto to have their fortunes told.  The Tea Room’s soothsayer did not use tea leaves or cards to predict the future, but instead would read fortunes by touching a personal object that guests proffered at the entrance to the Tea Room.  Once all the Tea Room guests were seated, having dropped a personal item into a basket when they arrived and paid their admission fee, the fortune teller took the stage, reached into the basket, pulled out each person’s item, one by one, then told their fortune.  After the predictions, that guest went to the stage and retrieved their personal item and was asked if the prediction seemed viable to them.

While, my mother and grandmother did this visit for fun, the psychic told Mom she would soon meet a fair-haired man from across water whom she would eventually marry.  Shortly thereafter, Mom was sitting on the front porch, when my father, fresh from landing in Toronto off a boat from Germany, was walking down the street and approached the porch to ask my mom for directions.  That was 1950 and they were married three years later.

I heard this oft-recited tale when I was growing up, probably the first time in response to my query about “how did you two meet?” and I thought it was a cute story, but perhaps just happenstance.  But that was before I heard of the famous psychic Gary Wayne.

And then there was renowned psychic Gary Wayne ….

Long after four children were allegedly murdered by the Oakland County Child Killer in 1976 and 1977, a famous Houston-area psychic by the name of Gary Wayne, was brought to the Detroit area in the mid-1980s by detectives still investigating this cold case.  Since Gary Wayne Wayne was credited with predicting President Reagan’s assassination attempt one week before that occurrence, it was hoped he could harness his psychic powers to assist them with clues to capture the child killer, which murders remain as unsolved cases to this day.  Gary Wayne was a guest on the J.P. McCarthy Show on WJR.  After host J.P. interviewed Gary Wayne, there was a half-hour time period for listeners to call in and speak to the psychic.  My mother was one of the lucky callers and told nothing to the program’s screener as she awaited the guest to speak with her.  Gary Wayne told my mom she had been the victim of a childhood accident which left her with substantial medical problems, including orthopedic and leg circulation maladies.  Gary Wayne further sympathized with her continued worries about her mother’s heart condition and said it preyed on her mind.  

Gary Wayne asked my mom if these statements were correct and she verified that yes, she had been hit by a car at age eleven and spent the next four years in the Hospital for Sick Children recuperating from her injuries; she had some forty-two orthopedic operations in her lifetime and suffered from poor circulation as well.  My grandmother and each of her siblings had heart problems, and my grandmother was in declining health at that time due to her weak heart and in fact succumbed to a heart attack in early 1986.  My mom was nearly numb that he “read her vibes” over the radio.  She called me at work and asked if we could go to a hotel in Southfield that weekend where Gary Wayne would take appointments to meet with you for thirty minutes and tell your fortune.  It was pricey as I recall, but we booked a half-hour session, fifteen minutes for each of us.

The experience was amazing and yet kind of scary.  We sat together at a table across from him.  He laid his head way back, let out a near-primal scream, then looked normal after that and relayed all kinds of events that had happened in the past and would happen in the future.  He pinpointed my mom right away as the woman he spoke to on the J.P. McCarthy show, even though she never gave him her name on the radio, and told us that plumbing troubles in the wall behind the bathtub would occur soon.  This revelation really fizzed my mom who called the plumber Monday morning to have him check out the pipes and plumbing.  He found no problems and chuckled at her belief that a psychic could predict a plumbing problem.  (Nothing ever happened in that regard.)

When it came time for my session, Gary Wayne told me I had a blonde woman enemy at work who would make trouble for me and that I would marry either a professional pilot who liked to golf or a professional golfer with his own plane (neither the former nor the latter has transpired to date).

But, while predicting those long-term future events, which I discounted as dubious, it was rather chilling when he looked me right in the eye and advised me not to cut my long hair as I would be sorry.  This totally freaked me out as I had been thinking of a change in my hair style for a while as I’d had long straight hair for years and needed a change.  Because I was very vain in those days, changing my hair style was a big undertaking for me.  Gary Wayne told me he knew I’d been preoccupied with the hairstyle change but don’t do it. (I did get my hair cut, hated it and proceeded to grow it long again, so yes, score one for Gary Wayne). 

At times during our sessions, this psychic’s voice changed, sometimes fast, sometimes slow, while relay his predictions.  I found myself thinking he was very weird and I was uneasy, yet I was afraid to think negatively toward him, lest he knew what I was thinking.  He also made us a tape and gave it to us as we left.   While it was a most-unusual experience and I’m glad we went, I’d never do it again.  

May the mystical, maniacal Devil’s Night be kind to you. 

… it causes cavities.

How’s your Halloween candy stash holding up? Be honest and raise your hand if you had to go out and buy more goodies for the ghouls and goblins that will be arriving at your house two days from now. I heard on the news that this year Americans would buy 600 million pounds of candy (90 million of it which would be chocolate) and spend nearly $1.90 billion (with a “B”) for that Halloween candy. That’s just amazing to me. I gave up sweets a few years ago for Lent and never regressed be it for baked goods or candy or gum. I have a very-occasional cornbread cake but that’s it and that really is not sweet so I don’t feel I need to have any wiggle room if I “fall off the wagon” to eat cornbread. When I got my temporary crown last week, Dr. Kelly said no Tootsie Rolls or gum and I told him no problem with that because I don’t indulge. I bet those sticky, gooey peanut-butter kisses in the black and orange wrappers would do a number on that temporary crown. I told my dentist I never got hooked on sticky and gooey candy as a kid as I wasn’t allowed to eat it and chocolate was just a occasional treat. The family (that being my parents and me) shared one large Cadbury chocolate bar on a Saturday night while watching TV and that was the extent of my eating chocolate. That was not a weekly treat either. In Canada, we trick-or-treaters would arrive at homeowners’ doors and cry out “Shell out, shell out – the witches are out” and not “treat or treat” as they do here in the States. My parents rifled through my cache of candy, plucking out sticky toffees, hard candy suckers, popcorn balls and all unwrapped treats before I was permitted to indulge. That didn’t leave much else unfortunately – maybe a few single strawberry Twizzlers, or a bag or two of chocolate goodies comparable to Raisinets or Goobers or the perennial favorite, Smarties, the Canadian equivalent of M&Ms. Since I wasn’t a big candy eater anyway, it wasn’t a real hardship for my candy to be misappropriated. Back in the day when I got braces on my teeth, gum was out and I missed it for awhile, but got over it. I can safely say I’ve never had bubblegum in my life – no Bazooka bubblegum or Bazooka Joe ‘toons for this kid. I don’t know whether I should feel deprived, but query … how did I get the two cavities that eventually crumbled and needed crowns? Hmmmmmmmm. I suspect devilish little dental demons were hard at work somewhere along the line.

Now there’s just a handful of days to get your Halloween duds ready. The costume stores were probably busy this past weekend with all the house parties. Growing up I heard the story told and re-told about my stint as Little Red Riding Hood one rainy Halloween. It wasn’t raining when my dad and I left the house, but it was predicted that evening, so we took an umbrella along. Too bad trying to use an umbrella around a porchful of kids didn’t work out so great and I ended up getting wet, so my dad took me home and we made it a very early night. Unfortunately, my costume was red satin and not colorfast so I had red dye all over my warm, light-colored coat and it ruined it. A lesser evil was that I toted along a paper shopping bag with the Big Bad Wolf’s picture emblazoned on each side which was part of the get-up. Sure, it looked cute, but that sack got wet as well, plus I dragged it on the ground and lost most of my candy before I got home. So much for magical memories for that particular Halloween.

I like checking out the kids’ costumes when I pass out candy, but sometimes I’m not familiar with the trendy characters. Most of the trick-or-treaters at my door are older kids anyway, and they just don a “Scream” mask or go as themselves – not so imaginative for the latter idea. Last year I had three kids, maybe one the year before. But you don’t want to leave the light off signifying no candy and thus risk damage to your house. The last time I went trick-or-treating was age ten, the first year we lived in the U.S. I went as a hobo, dressed in my father’s old flannel shirt stuffed with a pillow inside, some ratty denim jeans and an old pillowcase filled with crumpled-up newspapers on the end of my mother’s mop handle which represented all my worldly possessions. An old fedora was plopped on my head and my mom, who used to smoke in those days, saved some ashes from her ashtray and smeared the cold ashes all over my cheeks to resemble a few days’ growth of beard. We strived to have me resemble Red Skeleton’s character of Freddy the Freeloader.

Have you seen this clever glow-in-the-dark, stick-figure costume a proud dad made for his toddler? It is so innovative and I wonder how many people will try to copy it for their kids? Have a look and give yourself a grin: http://www.ryot.org/toddlers-awesome-led-stick-figure-costume-wins-halloween/439069

This morning was the first substantial walk I got in this week. While it wasn’t a perfect Fall Day, at least the sun was shining. I was surprised there weren’t more leaves on the ground after Saturday’s blustery weather, but unfortunately the homeowners’ harvest decorations took a beating with that near-40 mph wind yesterday. I saw several scarecrows sitting askew or their poles were listing or toppled over. Mums were looking bedraggled and cornstalks were crumpling and pulling off their tethers. At least the bales of hay and big pumpkins were intact. Lots of pumpkin pie fixin’ and eatin’ going on these days. While I was still at the law firm, before Robb and I moved out on our own, every Halloween we got mini-pumpkins for each of the support staff from Eastern Market and we had a decorating contest. The partners contributed a prize for the most-unique little gourd and one of the girls took all the pumpkins to Children’s Hospital to brighten the spirits of the kids who had to be hospitalized for Halloween. I won first prize one year and my efforts took about ½ minute of time. The downtown Detroit Hudson’s building had been imploded a few days before and it was a big deal for the other downtown tenants. I bought a can of Libby’s Pumpkin Pie Filling and stuck my bare mini-pumpkin on top. I typed up a sign “Before/After The Hudson’s Implosion 10/24/98”. … as ol’ Will Shakespeare suggested: “brevity is the soul of wit” … not only was it easy to do and clever but it yielded a $50.00 cash prize.

Today’s blustery and beyond-brisk temps remind me that the prediction by the Farmers’ Almanac of a cold and snowy Winter here in the Midwest sounds pretty darn credible. Yesterday, the weathermen kept touting 40 mph wind gusts and plummeting temps for today. This didn’t sound too inviting to take a walk, thus contemplating a few extra hours of shut-eye sounded much better, and I didn’t even set my alarm last night. I woke up about 7:30 and curled up in a little ball under the warm covers while I listened to the wind whipping around and rocking the house ever so slightly. I shut my eyes and fell right back to sleep and as I drifted off I know I wished I could hibernate until Spring. Speaking of hibernation, or otherwise dropping off the grid, did you miss me at the tail end of the week?

Some cyberspace shenanigans or evil voodoo was afoot the last few days trying my patience and wreaking havoc with my homeostatic condition and the internet as well. Wednesday we started the day with no internet or phones at work. Comcast in the entire building was down for about 2/3rds of the business day. The morning break was nice at first and I had an extra cup of coffee, then an early lunch, then a snack, all between trying to remote in, but everything was still out of commission. I had just started writing Wednesday’s blog, and my boss called to say we were “up”, so then alot of scrambling ensued to get some stuff done which had languished all morning. There were a few urgent items which got finished up but I was still pumping away with a big chart into the evening hours, so I decided to forego my blog post. The next day, I was working away and lost my remote connection. Big sigh on my part and after I tried to reconnect a few more times, I picked up the phone to call my boss and half-way through the call I noticed it was MY internet with the yellow shield on it. I fiddled around, pulling out plugs and plugging them back in to no avail. I decided dinner was in order and I would come back later, hopefully with my stomach full and patience intact. I was successful that time, so I worked fiendishly as if the internet connection was a parking meter and I wanted to get my chores done before it expired. I finished up, and was grateful to shut down for the night. About a half-hour later, I realized I had not done my blog post. Now, how could I forget you ask? Well, it had been over twelve hours since I walked, albeit a measly two and half miles, and walking and writing about it had slipped my mind somehow. I decided to just give the blogging another rest and return with great gusto on Friday. Yesterday, the work internet was intermittent and problematic through the day and it exasperated me. I lost my connection at least thirty times and was more than happy to terminate all keyboard activity when I finished my work day. I figured I’d better post something today in the event the power went out with this wind and you thought I was rolling along the street like a tumbleweed, never to return.

I trust you are tucked in your house clad in your cozy sweats or PJs and sipping a warm beverage with someone special by your side. As I write this, “Bohemian Rhapsody” is playing on the radio and Buddy is trying his very best to keep up and hit all the high notes. He is doing an admirable job and I told him that soon the radio stations will turn their playlists into all Christmas tunes. I’m looking forward to those songs, especially the old favorites, as is he.

This morning was brutal indeed. I shut the outside water off last weekend and it appears not a moment too soon with very low temps and a wind chill of 27 degrees this morning! It is much, much too soon for this cold weather and now snow flurries are expected tonight and tomorrow morning. Enough already! I decided, in lieu of a walk this morning, I should get a few errands done and give the buggy a run since we are having this cold snap for most of the week – unfortunately, sometimes it is better to cater to the car and not myself.

Autumn is really my favorite season, but maybe I’m rethinking that statement when it gets this cold and blustery and looking up at the sky, the leaves falling from the trees and scattering on the ground resemble a time-lapse photography video.

I really liked this picture because it reminds me of some of my favorite woolly sweaters that I’ve owned through the years. Warm and fuzzy memories of cardigans buttoned up to the neck to keep me cozy while one hand grips a mug with steaming hot chocolate with mini-marshmallows floating on top and the other hand is dipping into the cookie jar. But, any knitted item will evoke memories of my mom because she loved to knit and boy could she churn out the knitted goods until carpal tunnel issues forced her to stop entirely. For years she would knit while watching TV, the needles flashing furiously and the ball of wool at her side dwindling down ever so quickly. Mom never missed any part of the show since she rarely looked down at her work and only glanced at her project or directions on the commercials. She tried to teach me how to knit many times, but I was more likely to do “knit two, purl two, drop two” quickly followed by handing over my work with its dropped stitches boo-boo to be repaired. The many mistakes on my part were often met with a sigh so we eventually abandoned my knitting lessons and projects.

My mom was a whiz at creating delicate baby outfits – lacy sweaters with matching booties and cap and she knitted at breakneck speed when she learned friends’ children, grandchildren and even a few great-grandchildren were on the way. Mom would knit argyle socks and cabled sweater vests for my father and I amassed several large bureau drawers brimming over with soft, fuzzy sweaters, vests, plus many hat, scarf and glove sets through the years. Her hobby came to a crashing end when Mom decided to experiment with knitting afghans; she made two for my grandmother and one for her and me and all that knitting on large, circular needles, was too taxing for her and she eventually had to have carpal tunnel surgery on both hands. She was reluctant to take up knitting again lest she cause the carpal tunnel problems to flare up again, and she bemoaned the loss of her hobby and the fact that the needlework had helped keep her arthritic fingers nimble.

In the course of the last week, I’ve dragged out a knitted gloves, hat and scarf set plus a medium-weight coat for walking on the chillier mornings; perhaps the Polar Fleece gear and heavy mittens are next on the warm-weather apparel agenda. When is Indian Summer slated to arrive please?