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SunArc of Zenith
Jun. 23rd, 2024 10:16 pmWell, what shall I say? I've been getting tired at night. It was amazingly hot on Friday. I made a shopping trip on Thursday, and discovered that the entire grocery store was being reshuffled, like some kind of Escher picture. Nothing was where it was supposed to be, and mangoes, which I particularly needed, were nowhere to be found. I went down the street and tried to buy bagels, but the shop closed just before I arrived. So on Friday, we made a trip to the fruit market on the west side, where we found mangoes and also some delicious strawberries, and some lettuce and greens that had also not been looking very good at the regular store. Then we spent part of the evening at a meeting in a venue where there was no AC! Our host said cheerfully that one acclimates to the heat. I don't think so. I lived in Texas for FIVE YEARS, my dude, and they kept telling me I'd get used to it, but I never did. The very next day, the NYT featured an article about how being too hot reduces your IQ substantially. So there. Our host is a very nice and conscientious guy who loves to save energy and do everything by hand, so I don't mean to criticize him. I just think he might want to wait until he's 73 and see how he feels about it then.
On Saturday, there was a breeze, and I actually got out and did an hour or so of weeding in the flower bed. It looks better, as far as it went, but there's a lot more to do. Saturday night, we had dinner with friends, followed by the first session of our book discussion group on Dante's Divine Comedy. Dinner was delicious rice bowls with fish, a red lentil mix, cilantro, avocado, mangoes (the avocado and mangoes were my contribution), and a salad with lots of greens and bacon. Dinner was convivial and the book discussion was lively and enlightening. Nevertheless, when I got home I was beat.
Last night, there were thunderstorms, leading to slightly cooler weather. This morning, we got up late for some reason, and remained behind schedule, so I still haven't done my laundry or cleaned the bathroom. Or finished my proof-reading. I did cook up a nice burger for supper, with another salad and some heirloom tomatoes. My hardcover set of the Palliser novels arrived. I feel better now that I have the whole set to refer to. I started looking at the last book in the series, The Duke's Children. I last read it some time ago, and thought it was sort of pointless, because I didn't care about the Duke's children. Now I see much more clearly its terrible poignancy. Plantagenet Palliser, who has been a character of flat affect with a stick up his a** through most of the story, a foil for the emotional excesses of others, is revealed at his most human as he struggles with the shattering of hopes and the dashing of expectations. I think you have to be on the downhill slope of your path to understand this novel. Definitely not going to read this one as a bedtime story.
My sister Queenie's husband, the Fireman, has lost his dad. The Fire Chief died in his sleep Thursday night, at the age of 96. It's yet another lesson in how people tend to get into hospice at the last minute--if they are lucky. The Fire Chief had given his family plenty of hell as they struggled to keep him well cared for, and it was only a couple of months ago that he finally surrendered to what he needed. it's a great blessing when that finally happens, and the survivors can have the comfort of knowing that the person who died was in a good place and they don't have to have any regrets about the manner of his passing. I'm tired of people dying, but there's no end to it in sight. We watched the final episode of The Good Doctor, a show that we have loved. It ended fairly satisfactorily, with the minimum number of deaths, and a lesson on how to say goodbye gracefully. But no matter how often that story is told--the lesson of how to let go--it is a lesson impossible for the human heart to learn. "Memory is not what the heart desires. That is only a mirror, be it clear as Kheled-zaram. Or so says the heart of Gimli the Dwarf.”
On Saturday, there was a breeze, and I actually got out and did an hour or so of weeding in the flower bed. It looks better, as far as it went, but there's a lot more to do. Saturday night, we had dinner with friends, followed by the first session of our book discussion group on Dante's Divine Comedy. Dinner was delicious rice bowls with fish, a red lentil mix, cilantro, avocado, mangoes (the avocado and mangoes were my contribution), and a salad with lots of greens and bacon. Dinner was convivial and the book discussion was lively and enlightening. Nevertheless, when I got home I was beat.
Last night, there were thunderstorms, leading to slightly cooler weather. This morning, we got up late for some reason, and remained behind schedule, so I still haven't done my laundry or cleaned the bathroom. Or finished my proof-reading. I did cook up a nice burger for supper, with another salad and some heirloom tomatoes. My hardcover set of the Palliser novels arrived. I feel better now that I have the whole set to refer to. I started looking at the last book in the series, The Duke's Children. I last read it some time ago, and thought it was sort of pointless, because I didn't care about the Duke's children. Now I see much more clearly its terrible poignancy. Plantagenet Palliser, who has been a character of flat affect with a stick up his a** through most of the story, a foil for the emotional excesses of others, is revealed at his most human as he struggles with the shattering of hopes and the dashing of expectations. I think you have to be on the downhill slope of your path to understand this novel. Definitely not going to read this one as a bedtime story.
My sister Queenie's husband, the Fireman, has lost his dad. The Fire Chief died in his sleep Thursday night, at the age of 96. It's yet another lesson in how people tend to get into hospice at the last minute--if they are lucky. The Fire Chief had given his family plenty of hell as they struggled to keep him well cared for, and it was only a couple of months ago that he finally surrendered to what he needed. it's a great blessing when that finally happens, and the survivors can have the comfort of knowing that the person who died was in a good place and they don't have to have any regrets about the manner of his passing. I'm tired of people dying, but there's no end to it in sight. We watched the final episode of The Good Doctor, a show that we have loved. It ended fairly satisfactorily, with the minimum number of deaths, and a lesson on how to say goodbye gracefully. But no matter how often that story is told--the lesson of how to let go--it is a lesson impossible for the human heart to learn. "Memory is not what the heart desires. That is only a mirror, be it clear as Kheled-zaram. Or so says the heart of Gimli the Dwarf.”
