I took a walk and did not die. I saw wild grapes, spilled onto the paths everywhere. I stopped three times. Once to change my cassette tape, once to pee, once to tell a dog who was charging me to "go home." There were puddles in the dirt roads and the tracks of 'coons, like the prints of tiny children, walking on their hands.
I saw a man sitting in the long grass by the truck stop, holding a sign. I did not read what it said.
I came home and hung out clothes. I ate leftovers for my lunch. I read more Annie Proulx. She is talking about Indians now. Reading about what white people did to Indians is not apt to cheer one up at all. I need to go to town to the library. Things are due and overdue. A good citizen returns library items in a timely manner. I try to be a good citizen although I have not picked up trash in awhile.
Mr. Moon has said that he would take me away this weekend. I cannot even think of where I would want to go for a weekend. It is so hot everywhere near here. Maybe any hotel room would do, just a bed and an air-conditioner. Maybe. Any place where I do not have the option of working around here, feeling guilty when I do not. I am flat. I am feeling washed out and everything I do is done slowly. Reach for the wet clothes in the basket, shake them with a pop to unwrinkle them, pin them to the line. Walk slowly back to the house.
Wait for the next load to be done. Carry it slowly to the line. Repeat.
This is how I hang the clothes:
All the towels together in one place, all the napkins in another, the dish towels and dish cloths in another, Mr. Moon's clothes on their own line, my clothes on mine. The shirts and dresses which go on hangers in the closet are hung on the line on hangers. This way, when I take the clothes in, I can fold into the basket and everything is together to be put away in their own places. This is how I learned to do it. This is how I still do it. This is something an old woman would take pride in. I rebel, though, by not keeping my clothespins in a bag that ties around the waist that I can keep in the house so they will not rot in the wet and in the sun. I just leave them on the line and yes, they do rot.
I need to buy new clothespins.
I have rethought the library. Why drive to town and all the way across it to return items? I renewed online. I am still a good citizen.
I think I will go take a nap. I will probably dream, as I constantly seem to do now, of babies that I need to protect. I am getting very good at that in my dreams. I do not leave them and forget them the way I used to do in dreams. I keep them close, I watch over them well. The world is full of threats for babies, or so it would seem in my dreams.
A skink just ran across the porch. I wish I could get a good picture of one but they are quick and not as apt to pose as our anoles. They run and hide before the mind even registers what it saw, scampering across the floor. Some skinks have bright crimson all around their mouths and they look as if they have been drinking blood. It is a fierce sight and if I were a predator, I would beware.