My Little Golden Book of Phobias

Dearies,

There are horrid Blue Angels in the sky, Felix is wearing a 'thunder shirt' for anxiety and some nice men are installing new windows in my house. One of them grew up here but his mama was from Georgia so he has a southern accent. It is music to my ears, the slower syllables and the easy rhythms-reminds me of grits and sweet tea and key lime pie. And the languid noontime activities, sitting on the screened in porch doing nothing.

My counter is covered with unripe pears from my neighbor across the street. He doesn't use them or eat them and he told me to help myself. Pear sauce for all!!

Made four packets of pesto this morning, the basil was starting to bolt so I picked it all and spent the morning picking leaves and blessing my cuisinart. I swear, after the dishwasher, the cuisinart is the best invention in the world. I do have some lust in m heart for a kitchenaid that does everything. A yellow one to match my kitchen.

I watched the conventions. Well, I couldn't stand to watch the RNC so I listened to bits on the radio. I did watch the DNC and boy, that Obama is one beautiful man. And he has a beautiful wife. As for the rest of the ongoing shit show, I have no words except disbelief. And sorrow.

I am making an extra effort to be kind and generous to all folks I encounter. My neighborhood had their annual 'Night Out' where we pull out the barbecue and bring potato salad and a store bought cheesecake and we hang out. My hood is everyone; Black, white, asian, hispanic. And we find out who lives down the street and which one of us has the black puppy and who has a fig tree in their back yard.

It's time to hit the lake for a swim. I'm lucky enough to be getting a massage and adjustment this afternoon. My body is getting old, I'll tell you what. And my work is tough on me sometimes. Keep moving is the trick, I think. As long as nothing hurts too much. The lake is vast and wonderful and I'll be able to see Mt Rainier while I swim. And maybe an eagle.