Raspberry-Lemon Spritzer

San Diego summer. June gloom. The locals complain. The transplants love it. Caleb had baseball practice Tuesday and Thursday. I drove.

Caleb, 8, wants to be a firefighter still. Has not deviated. Hazel, 5, opinions about everything. Has Donna's directness without the diplomacy.

Grilled fish tacos Saturday. The San Diego standard.

Mom called Sunday. We talked while she was putting up tomatoes from the garden. She is sixty-something and gardening like she is forty.

I made a casserole because I always make a casserole.

Ryan went to his counselor Wednesday. He always comes home calmer. I am calm too, just from him being calm. The man Torres was killed with — Ryan calls his wife twice a year on Torres's birthday and the anniversary. The military widows are their own community.

I went for a walk Sunday morning before the kids got up. Half an hour. The fog was burning off. I needed it. Some weeks I get the walk in. Some weeks I don't. The week tells me which.

I unpacked another box from storage Tuesday afternoon. Three years on this base and I am still finding things I packed in Twentynine Palms. Military-wife archeology — every box is a layer of geological history. I found a ceramic dish from Lejeune still wrapped in newspaper from 2020.

Donna sent a recipe card in the mail this week. She has been doing this for years. The recipes go in the binder. The binder is full. The newest one is for a green bean casserole that uses fresh green beans and fried shallots and which I will absolutely make for the next holiday.

Ryan's friends came over Friday for a beer. I made wings and chips. They demolished both. Standard Marine appetite — they eat like they are still on rations. The kitchen looked like a battlefield by the end. They cleaned up. Marines clean up. Donna would have been impressed.

Dad called. He has been gardening. He is sending zucchini updates again. The PTSD is managed. He talks more than he used to. He is becoming his own version of healed, which I did not think was possible at fourteen.

Ryan came home tired Wednesday. He showered, ate, sat on the couch, was asleep by eight. Standard for a Marine who has been up since four-thirty for PT and stayed late for a brief. The schedule is the schedule. The body adapts because it has to.

Caleb watched the firefighters at a school visit Wednesday and came home buzzing. He is going to be one. I have known this since he was four. Some kids tell you who they are early.

I sat at the kitchen table Tuesday night writing in the journal. Volume 11 now. The handwriting has not gotten neater. The journals are a record of the life I am living, in the moment, in tiny script that I will look back on someday and not be able to read. That is okay. The writing was the thing.

I went to the commissary Saturday morning. Got the grocery haul under sixty bucks for the week, which is a small victory. The cashier knows me. We talked about her grandkids while she scanned the chicken thighs and the family-size box of pasta. Small-town energy on a Marine base in California.

The Friday before-school morning was chaos. Three kids, two backpacks, one missing shoe. We all made it to the bus. I drank cold coffee at nine AM because that's when I sat down. Standard.

The kids' soccer game was Saturday morning. The other parents brought oranges and Capri Suns. I brought a thermos of coffee for myself and a folding chair I bought at Target three years ago that has been to four duty stations now. The chair is a more loyal companion than some of my friends.

The other parents had their Capri Suns at the soccer game and that was fine, but when I got home Saturday afternoon after the game and the commissary run and the fish tacos and all of it, I wanted something cold and just mine — no juice boxes, no sharing, five minutes to make it. This Raspberry-Lemon Spritzer has become my version of the Sunday-morning walk: small, deliberate, entirely for myself. Some weeks you get the walk in. Some weeks you make the spritzer. Both count.

Prep Time: 5 minutes | Cook Time: 5 minutes | Total Time: 10 minutes | Servings: 4

Ingredients

1 cup fresh or frozen raspberries
1/4 cup granulated sugar
1/4 cup water
1/3 cup fresh lemon juice (about 3 lemons)
1 tablespoon lemon zest
3 cups sparkling water or club soda, chilled
Ice, for serving
Fresh raspberries and lemon slices, for garnish (optional)

Instructions

Make the raspberry simple syrup. Combine raspberries, sugar, and water in a small saucepan over medium heat. Stir and cook for 4–5 minutes, pressing raspberries gently with the back of a spoon, until sugar is dissolved and raspberries have broken down.
Strain. Pour the mixture through a fine-mesh strainer into a small bowl or jar, pressing solids to extract all the juice. Discard solids. Let the syrup cool for a few minutes.
Combine the base. In a large pitcher, stir together the cooled raspberry syrup, fresh lemon juice, and lemon zest.
Add the fizz. Just before serving, gently pour in the chilled sparkling water and stir once or twice — don’t over-stir or you’ll lose the bubbles.
Serve. Fill glasses with ice, pour the spritzer over, and garnish with a fresh raspberry and a lemon slice if you feel like it. You probably won’t feel like it. Pour it and sit down.

Nutrition (per serving)

Raspberry-Lemon Spritzer — The One I Made for Myself