It is so steamy I literally can't see when I go out; glasses can be a terrible liability, and it is hazy, too. I can't tell if it is the weather, or if it's the stress blinding me and making me dizzy. We wonder if this is success, this choking feeling that never leaves us, and is that the feel of our savings in their big money bags sitting on our chest? Will it shift long enough for us to breathe? Are we punished by our own love for techie things with carpal tunnel and nerve damages, so that it hurts us to pursue the games and gadgets we love?
But, I can' simplify either. I'm a complicated person, and I thrive on complications, but those of my own design, and I find it is very difficult to cater to other peoples' schedules. When I get like this,and I miss my mother more than I can stand, I seem to have more compassion for nature and animals than ever.
Yesterday, I knocked spiders out of our croner on the porch, but I spared the elegant mocha colored spider. I don't intend to be overrun with vermin, but she was outside, and it was her home. I have been known to liberate an insect victim now and then, but as a fan of Arachne, I have compassion for spiders. This evening, she had built back her web. I left her alone. In the five ring circus of turmoil that is my life, I can't disrupt hers.
I worry about the little ground hog I see every morning in the ditch between the two lanes of the interstate. Does he know where he is? He is there everyday foraging, and I wish I could signmal him to go into the pipes, underground, not to cross the road of death, not to be drawn to the big shiny cars. Then, maybe he knows this, and is domesticated as the squirrels in my yard are, or as the chipmonk, named Alvin, of course, who sleeps in my drainpipe. The squirrels are not above running at me when it is dry and they want water. If I have the hose out, they charge me, and I arrange little dishes for them so they, and the other animals can drink.
I don't begrudge them a cabbage leaf or pepper now and then, either. I am not a farmer, and am not lviing on my produce. But, I am glad that the gourds and pumpkins seem to be hanging on, and I'm waiting for Halloween this year again. It is August, which I love, with its peridot birthstones reminding me of sweet days lost. I used to be gettng ready for school in August, or I would be on Huntington Beach with my family, or Fisherman's Wharf, but now, all that is gone, too.
The shells I kept from those days mock me; I may never hear the ocean in their depths again, or walk through the shoals of Santa Cruz, or rescue star fish as I used to do.
I live for autumn, but nothing promising happens, only more trying things.
As far as cooking, these days it is too hot, but I make salads with arugula,and lemon basil mixed with black beans or peas, and other celeries, onions, and fresh vegetables. I'm getting interested in soup recipes again, planning for cooler days, but dreading them lest the pressure in my tires drops again.
The flowers seem to glow; they like the humidity, and if I were wealthy, I'd go mad at the sales in the nurseries, and even found a new one yesterday I would have loved to visit.
Happy planting, a stress free week. Welcome to new Twitter followers and folks on our Dr. E's Doll Museum Facebook page, and bless our friends at Pocket of Pearls!
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