Hello

It is currently eighty four degrees in our bedroom. People will tell you from the time you are a child that heat rises, and nights like tonight make them sound less like old windbags and more like prophets.

In the evening she wanders the house remarking on bits of dust in the corners of book shelves. I sit on the couch, watching the words go by, trying to remind myself that it is okay to slow down.

In the warmth, we look outside the window at the grass growing in clumps. "We'll have to buy an electric mower," she says.

"I'm going to take out all the grass." I say.

"The grass is the only thing holding down that soil. If you take it away, it will all just erode away."

"I just want to dig dammit."

Later, she tells someone that grass is one of the least effective green sort of things at holding soil in place.

Our basement is fifteen degrees cooler than the rest of the house. The past two days are the first time its been useful.

"Our electricity bill went up ten dollars," she says.

The reality is that I don't particularly give a damn. I was just happy for the warmth in the early weeks of spring. "Ten dollars isn't that much."

Sometimes when I'm reading novels I get distracted by the implausibility of all the things the narrator is noticing. I think, no, she was not noticing the particular type of stone laid out on the path, or the angle of the sunlight.

On the drive home today I could not focus. I turned up the music, stuck my arm outside the window and waved it in the wind. I couldn't stop thinking of days and moments long past, of meeting people for the first time. I was thousands of miles and years away from that person driving the car.

Today I learned that if you keep your neck back in line with your shoulders that your posture will improve. I remembered it for a couple of hours before I stopped doing it, like all the good advice I've been given through the years.

Meditation is a good thing for me.
Push your shoulders back.
Do not go to sleep on your anger.

It takes time.
It's so much easier to slump.
What if your anger is sleepy?

Outside the pansies are wilted, and the geranium looks as though it might give up the ghost in a day or two as well. But I won't give them water. I want them to be strong. I do not know anything about gardening, but I know that the strong ones keep growing even in the heat, and sad bits of soil.

A nice forward from my mother:
SOME PEOPLE ARE LIKE SLINKIES - NOT REALLY GOOD FOR ANYTHING BUT THEY BRING A SMILE TO YOUR FACE WHEN PUSHED DOWN THE STAIRS.

Just finished The Master by Colm Toibin.
Currently Reading: A Short History of Women by Kate Walbert.