Within the first two weeks of this blog, I wondered aloud how long I would survive in the heat, and having to get out into it. I think if it were just heat, even as bad as it is out West right now, I would be handling it. I have been in 123 degree temps in Death Valley before and survived. What is weighing me down now is humidity. It rains every single day, and it makes it impossible to want to go outside. I left PetSmart a couple days ago, and could barely walk from the store to the car in the thick, wet air. I couldn't breathe. And the mold is making me rethink my aversion to pills of any kind, as I reach for allergy meds. I went to a movie again today, and once again, it poured while I was inside. I am considering renting myself out, traveling between Albuquerque, New Mexico, Lamar, Colorado, Colby, Kansas, and Amarillo, Texas, just going in a loop, watching movies so it will rain for a couple hours in all those places where there is still exceptional level drought. It could be a hell of a racket. They need a rainmaker like me. I tried taking a photo of the steam rising off the street when I got home, but I made the mistake of parking and then walking out with the camera, and it had mostly dissipated by the time I got there.
I definitely have a new shadow. No matter where I am in the house, a very tiny barnacle is following me, clinging to me, cuddled in my lap or nipping at my toes. The main lesson for this week is learning to use the stairs when I am on the wrong storey of the house. As long as she never jumps from the balcony, the lessons will be worth it. I guess I should clarify, that is her lesson. Mine is to watch the floor more carefully when I walk and check every seat before I fall into it.
Today was my neighbor's memorial service. The crowd of cars in front of the house has grown. I am very glad to see such a strong show of support for the widow. I am very curious now whether she will stay here or move back to Alabama, like he had wanted to so desperately the last few months. She hasn't been able to spend time in the house since he died. When she's home, she's usually in a chair in the garage, which is odd, because that's where he used to hang out. He would sit there with the door open, a drink in his hand and some classic music playing on the radio, and treat us to a sample of the voice that kept him employed until recently singing for a doo-wop band on a cruise ship. She says it's harder for her to be inside without him. I imagine there is still a shadow of him in that garage, and that's more comfort to her than the quiet of the house.
Yesterday was hard to get photographs, but today the kids seem to be posing every time I turn around. I think the baby has already learned to look right into the lens. She likes stepping on the iPad when I am writing. Maybe I can combine those skills and teach her to take selfies. We would take over Instagram. Hey, Athena, come here. I have something to show you...
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