Monday, August 24, 2020

home in the heat

Home to a heat warning - 33 degrees feeling like 37. Where's the lake?!

Ruth and I had a wonderful few days. We fell into a rhythm that worked for us both - coffee in the morning sun, reading, discussing politics, reading, internet, swimming, making and eating lunch, reading, aperitif, making and eating dinner, internet, Netflix = perfect. Going down to the lake last night to look at the quarter moon and the electric storm flashing through the clouds on the horizon.

Last night, the last episode of Unbelievable - a terrific Netflix drama, highly recommended. And then I persuaded Ruth to watch the last episode of this season's Endeavour on PBS, a sensible, interesting British cop show which for some reason turned into a gothic melodrama, ending with various shootings in a Venice graveyard with an opera soundtrack. Who hijacked the series? This ridiculous episode was full of events that made no sense. Poor Ruth did not understand my enthusiasm.

We had a leisurely drive back down this morning, stopping, of course, to buy corn and peaches. We drove for many, many miles through farmland, all dedicated to corn. Wondered - is that healthy for the soil? I got back to find my house in great shape thanks to Nicole, but the cat not so much - she has puked twice since my return. As she pukes, she moves steadily backwards so as to leave a nice long trail on the rug. I feel for her. Perhaps it's the heat.

Speaking of puking, I gather some horrible man has been chosen to head the Tories, and he has immediately sworn to kill the CBC. As I just wrote on FB: to those who love to dump on Justin Trudeau and the Liberals, just wait until you find out what the Cons have in mind. Terrifying. And of course, I'm ignoring every moment of the Republican convention. Give me strength.

A long list of things to do, including stuff with the many cucumbers that sprang forth in my absence. But for now - rosé.

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