Sunday, August 02, 2015

Blurry and bleary

Did I mention that Gus has taken to occasionally howling like a wolf when he hears a siren? The siren has to be really close, like speeding by our pulled-over car or right past our open dining room window. It's adorable, and I always tell him, "Good dog, Gus!" Every once in a while I will hear a more distant siren, and I will howl like a wolf to try and get him going. It never works, but it does make him whip his head around and look at me the way I'd look at him if he suddenly said, "Say, I'd love to have one of those ice cubes, while you have the freezer door open!" Like, "She speaks my language. Why does she usually pretend not to??" When Adam was here last month, he did it once too, and again, Gus examined his face intently: This human too?


It has been not-even-that-hot-but-hot-for-Maine lately, like 85ish, the last several days, and man, I have been sweating like a...whatever. Big salty drops of sweat just cascading down my face. I feel like some delicate alpine flower or something--so hot. (Is this hormonal? Or something? Some hideous mid-40s thing?) I mean, I've been unable to accomplish much of anything, just moving in slow motion as I rinse out a cup and a bowl and then think, "There. My work is done for the day," before collapsing in front of a fan with a glass of iced coffee. The other day I made an upsetting confession to Mark: "You know how everyone says they hate air conditioning? Because it's so artificial and blah blah blah? I LOVE AIR CONDITIONING SO MUCH. The colder the better." Okay, today's much cooler, and I've been able to paint a fourth layer of tung oil stuff on the counter and wash several loads of laundry and walk Gus and eat breakfast with Isaac and do the dishes and contemplate some billable work and write some emails.

My blurry neighborhood.

I felt so lonely walking last night and looking at the blue moon and missing Mark (who's in Kansas for a few days for our nephew James's wedding) and my bruddies and some other special people. It made me think about how brave Zoë is to go on her own to these places she goes, and to be committed to what she's doing there even if she has to be without people who know her and hug her and love her so much. I'm so much more of a wimp in just about every single way than that girl is.

My bruddie and me.

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