Try liturgically feasting the summer away.
Had we been in Britian or even New England I suppose we could have ventured into the fields and bowers in search of St John's Wort and been forever happy and never depressed had we found that elusive herb. However, having very few (read - none) fields and bowers within 150 miles we simple feast. Yum! Food I can do.
On the menu for the Nativity of St John the Baptist:
Ribs, smoky, charred, and drenched in Hal's special Key Lime Chipotle Marinade. Nicely primitive in a finger-licking gnawing sort of way when eaten round the traditional bonfire (read - charcoal grill).
Grasshopper Pie, green and cool and light and airy. Much less crunchy than the real thing would have been and therefore that much more delightful. Totally
sweet with the little honeybee graham crackers too, fantastic touch to bring the honey symbolism in that way, great job, Marianna!
Oh, and did I mention we listened to Christmas Carols? It is known as Little Christmas after all...