I took a shower today

I had trouble falling asleep, although we have given up and run the AC almost all the time now, so it wasn't hot. I think I was still charged up from the day and needed more time to wind down. I had a great 4-hour baking day: quiche, lemon squares, brownies, Cowboy cookies and ginger-molasses, as well as vegan oat drops. Everything went pretty well, but it was hard work. At potluck, we had a new family to the community and that was really fun. Then Nancy S. was mentioning a talk at the library she wanted to see: Cohousing for Elders. I generally try not to add any driving trips, but if I could ride with her, I wanted to go too. The talk was given by Anne Glass, one of my gerontology professors (and advisor). I like Anne and we share a lot of the same interests. She is moving to Wilmington, NC, to run a program there (and I am baking cookies...never mind). Anyway, it was exciting to talk to a lot of people and refresh a lot of my thoughts on the topic of aging. So, that's probably what kept me from sleeping.

I woke up as it was getting light, around 6, pretty much my favorite time. Ray was still asleep, which is unusual these days. He often gets up at 4:30 or 5 to work on the notes for his class--which pisses the hell out of me...and then he's exhausted of course. Either it's nearing the end of the session and he's done preparing notes...or it caught up to him and he just didn't wake up. I was a little groggy, but I remembered I wanted to start a load of laundry early, to take advantage of our special low electric rate between 11 pm and 7 am. I opened a couple windows, even though it was 75 out and 76 in and very high humidity. I just felt like I wanted a few minutes of real air before we shut it all down. Then I spent time reading e-mail, which is how I usually start my day. It's 90% political, environmental, justice...you get the idea. I should just unsubscribe to all the lists I'm on and delete the 10,000 e-mails in my inbox. Maybe when we move, I'll have a new e-mail address just for individuals!

At 7:30, I woke Ray up and we started our routine. I got out the yogurt and the bread, rinsed off a couple peaches, sliced 4 pieces of bread and put them in the toaster. My Dad was coming and he would eat toast with his bacon and egg. Ray and I were puttering around when Dad arrived and sat down. He brought his coffee, because we don't usually have it. I put the bacon in the pan and rinsed an egg for him. I sat down to eat and he eventually got up and finished cooking the bacon the way he liked it, followed by egg. I worked on the puzzle some and chatted with him. Ray hung out the laundry. Then I asked him to cut up the boneless pork shoulder. It was 5 pounds and he cut it in three pieces. I put two in freezer zip-loc bags (that Ray had rinsed from some other purpose) and got ready to cook the third one. Daddy went for a walk with Cameron. Ray went upstairs to shower and dress.

I cut up half an onion and a garlic clove while browning the meat on the stove in my big cast-iron skillet. I asked for it for Christmas one year and my Mom, true to form, said, "I don't know why you want this heavy thing, but here you go." That's the spirit of giving...I put the meat and the onion in the crockpot with some mustard and tomato puree (didn't have any paste or Worcestershire sauce, also called for).

Daddy was back from his walk, Ray was driving away, and Cameron and I set off on a shortish walk. The cicadas were buzzing and it was very humid, but lots of clouds kept the sun from being too hot most of the time. I spent a little time in the garden, although it was already uncomfortable. Daddy had pointed out a mystery: the big green tomatoes that should have been ripening were gone. I have picked about 20 cherry tomatoes over the last couple weeks, but something has stolen most of them--they were looking good. There is no sign of what it might have been, tracks or scat or partly-eaten fruits...it doesn't seem interested in the green beans (too hard to pick?), which I pick about twice a week...enough for a small serving for 2 or a good serving for 1.

Job I should apply for

I read about a case manager job at Drug Court. I am sure I could do a good job...whether they would hire me or not is another question. Then I thought about how exhausting it would be to work, probably more than full time, and how stressful and depressing the work would be...and even the application process seemed like too much trouble, answering all these questions about my qualifications. I am really grateful that I don't have to apply for that job.

Monday morning at home

Yesterday was a day off...no Sunday market. Ray and I went to the service, but I didn't have any jobs I had to do there. I really enjoyed talking to people. There is a new person, Naomi, who I talked to before. She is studying at UGA, city planning and historic preservation. I am a little jealous. I love being a student and am so interested in those subjects, planning more than preservation. I'm not sure they had that major the last time I was in school. They have added an engineering program, too. So tempted! But I need to make money, not spend it, and UGA is expensive! Naomi's daughter is in school here, too. She is originally from New York; perhaps that is another reason I like her. I can't wait to introduce her to Janna. She had several friends there, also students from her program: Molly is tall, with crazy curly reddish hair, and there was a young couple. He is Scott, but I have forgotten her name.. They both graduated and are both employed! (jealous again)

We had lunch at the Grit with John and Deb and John Z. He had never been...We had to wait and the service was slow and it was REALLY LOUD...hard to have a conversation. The food was very good, though. I had a breakfast burrito (it was brunch)...and a mimosa. John Z and I discussed our idea for a solar-powered RV...his idea is for a trailer, with wings that open out to increase the solar exposure. I really want to make a list of which restaurants have the best acoustics! It's my own fault, they asked me where I wanted to go and I said they should pick. I feel like I am always the one who decides...but next time I will participate.

Then we spent the afternoon at home, with the wonderful air conditioning going. I made a salade nicoise and didn't do much else. Ray did some mowing, which makes the yard much nicer this morning. He let the chickens out..3 eggs. We ate our salad and some dessert (we have so many cakes and sweets to eat and try to be moderate!). I froze most of the things I had left after the market...one whole zucchini-cocoa loaf cake...several giant chocolate chip cookies. Lemon squares can't freeze and I kept some slices of the first cake. Also I froze most of the quiche squares, but kept some out. I will probably have that for lunch...need to get started on supper, because we can't cook between 2 and 7, to minimize our electricity use.

Sausage on the grill and sweet potato salad...too bad I don't have celery. broccoli, too?

The Lost Art of Bathing

"I don't have time for a bath."
I know what you'll say.
I have thousands of e-mails
That I should file, too.

Yet I turn on the water
(heated by the sun),
brush my teeth and take my pill,
while I think of what to wear.

A bath makes every day
go so much better.
So I allow myself this
little bit of indulgence.

I anticipate it eagerly.

By now it is full enough
for me to climb in.
(I know you have your own tub,
that you almost never use.)

My knees loom incredibly.
I look at my toes
and remind myself to call
to get them a pedicure.

Tomorrow, when I lie here,
they will be the same,
half-polished from the last time
my grown daughter painted them.

I think happily of her visit.

It is surprisingly hard
to paint my toenails
these days--was it easy once?
(I think perhaps not for me.)

There is a round metal piece
in the bathtub's end,
where water would siphon off
if I had filled it too full.

It is a small blurry mirror.
where I say hello
to parts of me I rarely see.
I vow to exercise more.

I will reduce that soft lump of belly!

I admire the saggy breasts
that did their job well
years ago, reminding me
who I was then and am now.

I shampoo my hair (sometimes)
and condition it.
Then I've been known to lose track.
Did I start to wash my arms?

I put the soap on my face;
and rinsed it away.
But then how far did I get?
I didn't do my back yet.

I do not linger long.

A few minutes in the tub
calms me thoroughly,
washing off the garden dirt,
cleaning bug bites and scratches.

You should try it, too!

Here's my Dad!

Just pulled up in his red Toyota...I can look out the window and see who's coming, when I hear the gravel crunching.

So far today, one spinach quiche cooling...beans picked.

I sure hate being trapped in my house by the heat...thank goodness for air conditioning. It makes me work inside, so that's good.

Gardening in July

"Sixty, sixty, sixty,"
I intone to myself.
I am crawling in the dirt
between the rows.
I smell tomatoes and basil,
maybe green beans; now dill.

It is a day without
obligations
if you don't count vacuuming
or cooking.
Those are just things I should do,
not commitments.

As we came back from walking the dog,
Ray went in the house
to get ready to leave for work.
I wandered into the garden.
No gloves, no hat, no kneeling pad,
no tools.

I admired the growing plants,
And then I couldn't stop myself.
I bent over to pull up a weed.
Then another...grasses and mimosa,
things I recognize from years spent
pulling them out.

In just a minute,
my back starts hurting
(sixty, sixty, sixty).
I change to squatting
to keep pulling weeds.

Before long I have given up--
I'm sitting in the dirt,
soft and damp
from last week's rain;
it is perfect for pulling weeds
and admiring vegetables.

It is hot, but early enough in the day,
and the tomatoes are tall enough
to shade me from the slanting sun.
The birds call,
I wish I knew their names.
The cicadas are buzzing.
It will be a hot day.

Eventually I find
I am lying on the dirt
full-length, still pulling things up.

The bees are starting to be busy (bzzy)...
I don't want to be in the way,
keep them from their job
pollinating cucumbers, tomatoes, beans...

I move on to the melons and pumpkins,
just coming up.
Several to a hill,
I reluctantly pull one or two
of the less healthy looking baby plants.
It is better for the rest,
but still hurts my heart.

There are so many weeds,
young and easy to pull.
The mint is spreading everywhere,
in the beds and the paths,
but I don't pull it up.
The bees are happy that it is blossoming.

I find some onions
that were ready to dig up
weeks ago.
Their tops are missing
and they sit waiting for me,
with their pointy brown heads.
They are smaller
than the ones I can buy,
but they're mine
for the taking.

***

Yesterday I went walking with a 15-year-old,
two miles around the lake.
She did not complain,
she was not tired.
She did not wake up sore
this morning.

I was 15 once.
I didn't know to appreciate
my strength and health
and resilience.

But then, my father is 88.
He is strong and healthy,
still prone to gardening,
as he likes to say.

Perhaps 60 is okay.
Perhaps I will like 60.

***

A woman died this week,
A woman I don't think I ever met.
She was not old,
in her 60s (that's not old now).
No one knows what killed her.
It was a drug-resistant infection.
She got sick and went to the hospital
and died a few weeks later.
They couldn't save her there.

I think I will stay home,
and maybe not invite anyone to visit.