June 4

 

Today, I put the story here

Firefly cotillion

 

When I am working the night job, I get two breaks after dark. If it's nice out, I sit outside. Nights like this make it very difficult to come back inside after only fifteen or thirty minutes. The neighbor's magnolias haven't bloomed yet but my gardenia up in the mailbox garden is having an orgy for itself.

The last of the cloth got color yesterday. there may be some overdyeing. won't know for sure until after the wash and dry. This is cloth that I'm keeping for garment or quilt making. Premium muslin and a couple of Brooks Brothers tuxedo shirts. 

The two blouses hanging over the chairs were a gift from a friend. Soft cotton lawn and the perfect fit but born in four-inch square plaids of blue and white and orange and white. I settled that. Sweetie approved.

Colin grabs another spectacular sunset from the ramp at LZU.

Watching

 

Nearly eight! 

We will have a handful of days like today before he goes to day camp in July.  Weather permitting, we'll rotate between the park, the pool, and the library. He is a ball of energy and has that unmoored social ineptness so common to singletons. But he'll find his way because he is sensitive and smart. 

He loves to hear about the tomfoolery (he also collects archaic language) that my night job delivers on a regular basis. 

Last night a restaurant manager called to report that she received a phone call about a naked man on the roof of the restaurant. As soon as she hung up the phone, another call came in. This time it was the naked man calling. She hung up on him, called the police, and went outside to walk around the building to see if anyone was out there. Or up there. Nothing and nobody.

Charlie was hysterical and said, "She should have told him NO SHIRT, NO SHOES, NO SERVICE!"  I wish I had been that witty. 

This park is fifteen minutes from home. Wide-open, brand new equipment in a very large oval yard surrounded by wide sidewalks and low walls with polished concrete seating. I need to remember my seat cushion.  Beyond the playground, are open fields with miles of walking paths. There is a little kid's playground on the other side of the park. Pavillions for picnics and BBQs. All that's missing is a splash pad. Charlie plunges in and leaves me to my devices. I sit where I can see the kids. Check for his blue/black flash every few minutes.

Today was different. I found myself watching the perimeter. Looking for the out-of-place person.  And I wasn't the only one. An elderly gentleman looking like Santa on vacation set up a canvas folding chair in the shade off to one side. He had a huge hardcover novel but didn't turn many pages. Across from me on the other side of the playground, a black woman, arms folded also looking behind the children. Noting who came and went. We watched. Behind us, the teachers and families of a kindergarten class were setting up a graduation party under the big pavilion. Clutches of little half-pints in red and gold caps and gowns flitted around the playground like hot butterflies. 

 I put my cloth on the pavement between my feet . The cloth had nothing to say today. 

All hands

 

Sometime last September I had a duel with a jar of salsa. The lid would not come off and I wanted that salsa. Without bothering with the usual methods of coaxing a stuck lid - you know, tapping it on the table, running it under hot water, etc. - I grabbed it and used every ounce of strength I had. 

Yes! There was salsa. There was also a very painful swelling on the back of my hand over my two middle knuckles. The usual remedies didn't help much.

A week or so later, I went for my booster shot. The dispensing pharmacist welcomed me behind the screen. He'd noticed that I had difficulty with the paperwork and was cradling my lumpy hand. He asked me to spread my hand out on the tabletop and explained that in Pakistan he had been a hand surgeon. He had me move my hand thus and so. Touched the swelling very gently and declared that I had torn a tendon. Ice, rest, and a long recovery period were prescribed. No more fighting with recalcitrant jar lids. And a COVID jab for good measure. He was right.

Today was the first time since then that I was able to thread a needle and use it without any pain. I'd almost forgotten it was something I did all the time without even thinking about it. I basted a few likely players into position for about an hour and called it enough.

 Actually, it was Bailey who called it enough. He's a peripatetic fur snake but when he wants love, he leaps into your lap and demands it. Clambers over whatever you have in your lap, damn the pins and needles.  

Maybe for only a minute or three before he dashes off, but it's always a miracle to see him drop the tough guy routine for a dose of mama love. Irresistible.

A heart of darkness

 

I frighten myself. I imagine I frighten a lot of you gentle souls. For that, I'm sorry. 

Like many, I couldn't sleep last night. Charlie has a little cold. An earache from swimming. Every time he coughed in the next room, I was reminded how being a parent, even a grandparent, is having your heart outside of your body for the rest of your life. In its place, I have a black hole full of lightning and lasers.

Awake, I kept imagining the terror in that classroom. Do you really think they all died instantly? There is no god that good.

If anyone says "thoughts and prayers" to my face, they may well experience the wrath of Kali.

 

When I did fall asleep, I imagined myself moving through the night with a machete in each hand. Finding the NRA puppets, one by one. Slashing. Laying waste. I have never been more furious at being an old woman.

All I have is my vote, and I did earlier in the day. What money I can spare will go to the Blue candidates who need it most.

Beto was magnificent today. And I can't wait for the 1/6 findings to be televised. The revolution WILL be televised. 

And over all of this, the sweetness of summer.