It’s hot.
I was in Maryland last week, helping my sweet father through surgery. Shopping, nursing, cooking, and cleaning. I’m a parent again - Hydrate! No wine! Stop smoking! - and Steven is a capable nurse, dispensing meds and removing the catheter. I scrub and purge, sort and organize. Wring my hands and worry.
Watched the Carlin documentary. It was very good and quite depressing. He was right. Everything that he skewered decades ago is now much worse. Have we learned nothing?
High summer. So hot, it’s nearly all we talk about. Our humid 90s would be a gift to some, though. The world is burning up, right in front of our sweaty faces.
Our local music festival starts today, a small town super-spreader event. We’ll avoid it like the plague (haha), but the strains of roots music will reach the dinner table on the screen porch and make us mad. Covid is still everywhere.
I caught myself in tears recently, a little undone by Ravel. A normal morning, sun shining, birds singing. Are we all a mess, or just me?
Time is a tedious construct.
I hiked a gorge with a long-lost friend and it nearly killed some of us. There were so many tourists that, even outdoors in a natural cathedral, it felt like a viral bath. We held our breath and tortured our knees.
This has me thinking about flowers, time, bodies, writing, and trees. I’d like to read Orwell’s Roses. I should be gardening.
I went to an endocrinologist. He said I'm basically spectacularly healthy, but my thyroid needs help and I'm still dealing with "the last whispers of menopause." Menopause tried to kill me and my poor thyroid is dying, but I'm in spectacular health!
Do you ever feel like none of this matters AT ALL and, therefore, relax?
I picked blueberries this morning and it was uncomfortably hot. I’ve eaten them like an unhinged toddler and now have blueberry belly, which is uncomfortable but feels like a summer win.
My children have weirdly dated a lot of potters and now I have a bunch of ex pottery around the house. No one wants any of it, but it’s all handmade! And gifted! Do I make a shrine of ex pottery, or a graveyard?
One of the most inspirational women in my life is my great-aunt Bea. She’s an unlikely role model, with no degrees or careers, no titles or prizes. Her specific talent is kindness. Generosity. Unconditional love. Food. Kindness is her currency. It’s a lesson in this go-go world.
I bought cute gardening overalls, thinking it would make me a gardener. So far, it has not worked.
My daughter is moving very, very far away soon and I need a minute.
The House just voted to keep birth control legal and 96% of Republicans voted no. WTAF? 96%? The war on women continues, forever and without end.
I really want to jump in the lake but there’s a “harmful algal bloom” and doesn’t that just capture the moment.
Seeking a new pandemic rabbit hole. I have enough washi tape to last the rest of my life and it’s too hot to bake. Maybe it’s time to catch up on all the magazines laying around the house. Or maybe I need to justify those overalls.
I bought frozen treats and will think about everything else tomorrow.
This is me not writing.
What’s the best thing that happened today?
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Loved this piece. “Are we all a mess…?” The answer, 2+ years into this pandemic and general political chaos, is definitely “yes.”