I waited until way-too-late o'clock to take my walk today but it turned out that the timing was pretty good because I met a sweet little dog who appeared to be out adventuring. I checked her tag and there was a name and a number on it, as well as her name, which was Ren.
Since this is modern times, I could just take my phone out of my pocket where it had been reading me an audio book and called the number of Brett, the supposed human of this particular dog. He answered and yes, it was his dog and he'd realized he'd left the door open and had been on his way home from Monticello to find her when I called.
Ren walked home with me and Brett came and got her.
She was a pretty little thing and followed right along with me and I thought about how dogs are so conditioned to obey humans that they'll even obey a complete stranger. Dogs are not cats, y'all. I suppose you have noticed this.
Brett was a nice guy and he liked my yard. We talked a little bit about gardening. He's just learning and I wish I'd had more to offer him in the way of advice but I don't. At least half the time I have no idea what I'm doing and that's just a fact, even after all these years digging in the dirt. Forty or more years, actually, and I've never felt like I have much of a clue.
I tried to work outside some after my walk, speaking of dirt. That lasted for maybe an hour. It's just too hot and humid and thankfully, a rainstorm came and I had a good excuse to come back into the air-conditioning where I stood in front of the TV and watched Tales of the City and ironed. I do highly recommend that series.
I got to see Owen and Gibson and Maggie and Jason today, albeit briefly. They came by on their way to go fishing. They needed to borrow a few of Boppy's fishing things. As Lily said they had a jug of water, a bag of chips, one fishing pole, and a tackle box from Jason's childhood. She also said that Jason was brave and maybe slightly delusional about how this was going to go. The kids sure were excited. Maggie had the little monkey woman doll I made for her and she was so thrilled to show it to me. "You made it for me!" she said. It was a cute doll. I had forgotten that I gave it substantial eyebrows to match Maggie's.
And now it's evening and it's still raining. I let the baby chicks go outside the coop today and I hope they're all okay. I'll go check in a little while.
None of my pictures will upload tonight. Our internet has been shit ever since they got it back on. It's better than dial-up used to be but not by a whole lot.
And I'm just feeling cranky.
Sort of mean.
Regretful. Self-hating. Guilty, shame-based. Anxious. All the usual stuff.
I don't know what's wrong with me but I need to snap out of it.
I've made Granny M's eggplant casserole out of the beautiful, gorgeous, shiny eggplant that I picked today. I've talked about Granny M. before. Sometimes we called her Mrs. Matthews but mainly, she was Granny M. and she taught me about half of what I know when it comes to cooking just from watching her shuffle around a kitchen wearing a negligee with a cigarette firmly held between her lips, cutting up this, adding a pinch of that, mixing up a bowl of something else before she poured it into a skillet and baked it. I loved that woman and I think of her more often than you'd think for someone who wasn't really related to me at all.
The rain is still falling, but gently.
There are clean, ironed shirts in the closet.
Whatever it is that I'm feeling or going through or imagining will pass eventually.
We persevere, don't we?
Yes. Mostly we do.