24 of 100
June 16
I tried to listen to the House hearings about January 6th, but the current witness, Judge Luttig, speaks so slowly that it is impossible to stay interested to get the meaning of what he is talking about. Having had a deep-sea deep sleep cycle this morning, I am more than hard pressed to come to any kind of consciousness. Even two-double espressos are not penetrating the depth of this fog.
June 22
While it is true that I have not been blogging, it has been in the service of a greater good. My dear friend, the marvelous Debee came to Santa Fe Springs for a few days to help me out. Not only did we get some of the peskier gardening done, she was able to clean out the garage as well as helping me (with Patrick) getting some more ruined furniture to the dump. There is still much to do, but at least I no longer feel suicidal about it all.
"Yet more concerning was the fear that it wasn't rock music that was tapped out, but me. Maybe you're only allotted a finite number of musical epiphanies in a lifetime, and I'd used mine up. No more capacity for a true sense of wonder, for unhinged delight at hearing something new.
And I recognize this is something everyone says about life after college. It's natural to feel the greatest affection for the music we associate with our carefree high school and college years. The records we associate with being stuck in traffic on your Monday morning commute, or changing diapers in the middle of the night, or writing mortgage checks? These are not the albums you want to have with you when you're stranded on a desert island.
— Marc Fagel, Jittery White Guy Music: True Rock and Roll Confessions from a Guy Who Bought the Album, self-published, 2020
August 4
That book seems like a lifetime ago.
September 7
My Hong Kong Orchid Tree is in severe distress. The large leaves are turning yellow. There is a two week moratorium on outside watering here in LA County to repair a leak in the water system from the Colorado River. It is quite an inconvenience but it needs to happen. My young Black Tulip Magnolia and Japanese Maple are similarly stressed. The cherry tree hates the sun and dryness (I know, what did I plant that one? Hope of cherry blossoms?).
On the other hand, the citrus, olive, fig, and pomegranate trees in the backyard are toughing it out. I haven't been out ...
September 8
Oh the feeling of a drip of sweat trying to slide down your back to your asscrack, but is somewhat impeded by the humidity of your skin itself.
Some of you may have heard that the weather is quite warm here in California. My brother in Oakland said it was 118 degrees on his porch yesterday afternoon. Janet and I spend a lot of time scantily clad while sprawled on beds. My tv watching has increased. Nina and Vera think the hallway is the coolest part of the house, having the added bonus of being kitchen adjacent should there be any food slung around. If I can get a thing or two done a day, I am doing well.
Today I had to take two kitties, McCoy and Bebop (more on her anon) to the vet for shots and boosters. It wasn't easy getting them in their carrying cases, nor finding the cases even though I have five or six of them. They've been moved (maybe by me) and were not in their usual place. I taught a yoga class. I swept the living room carpet. I did the dishes.
One of the themes of the past few weeks has been self-care. For me to make a point of washing my face twice and day and moisturizing is a small step. Writing to you is another. Writing to you is also writing to myself. Win-Win.
Okay, nattering could continue but it is after midnight and I still need to wind down, brush teeth, clean feet, etc. I will leave you with this:
