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Aug. 5th, 2022
perfect as they are.
Aug. 5th, 2022 11:06 pmit's only august 5th and i already failed josh's attempt to get me to not drink any alcohol for the month of august. i was just in so much pain. this is not good.
i have this feeling, as all of my friends pine for fall, that seasons are all just exactly the right length. maybe this is just an aspect of my life being in such a good place at the moment. (despite the current bout of pain.) i see the whispers of fall people are alluding to. our evenings are cooler, the mornings got back their slight chill, temporarily. the flowers are fading - so many got scorched to a crisp in that long heatwave. especially the roses. this is the second year in a row of the only two years i've ever seen summer sun in portland literally burn the midsummer plants. (we are doomed.) but i see the hydrangeas starting to turn, hinting at their fall fade. the numbers of crows gathering at night have increased from families of 4-6 to murders of 20-30, noisier a little each night. come september there will be hundreds of them in great boisterous clouds in the tops of the giant weeping aspens we have here in the courtyard.
but i love august so desperately. it's my favorite month, because it is the month i am in. typically this is the month of the year when i experience the least physical pain, this week's flare-up notwithstanding. there's something about that last gasp of summer, the elongated evenings, the long summer shadows, the lingering warmth, the crickets long into the night, the meteor showers, the moon the moon the moon. the flirations and romance, the summer music, long road trips to remote wooded escapes. skinny dipping, ice cream cones and air conditioned movies, long slow walks in twilight. early morning coffee and sunshine and dewdrops on the yellowing blades of grass. the leaves haven't started turning yet but a few pine needles are dusting the sidewalks, here. there are little strange pale mushrooms poking through the grass and vanishing just as quickly as they arrived. dragonflies and butterflies, the scent of sunscreen and lip gloss and lake water. stone fruit and late season berries, the way everyone is just a little bit more affectionate and playful. we must make the most of summer before it's gone, the air whispers silently.
fall will be just as beautiful. no need to rush it. i understand wanting it to be longer. i want all of the seasons to be longer. but right now, in this moment, it seems like they are all exactly the perfect length.
the little baby cottontail that found its way to our courtyard the other night has already perished, poor lil bunbun, i knew it was not long for this world, in this area. it makes me want to scream, but i don't. i understand this is just how the world is now and no amount of screaming will change it. (this isn't really about the bunny. it's about the world at large. it's about deep sea mining. and pesticides and herbicides. and all the destructive horrors humans inflict on this delicate planet. and it's about finley most likely making out with strangers at a dance event i cannot attend because technically i am not "fully vaccinated" despite being boosted and having recovered from an omicron infection in early june. it's about alex disappearing from bangbang tonight without saying goodbye. it's about how the only nice articles of clothing i own are pieces gifted to me by cynthia and natasha.)
...
for some reason the topic of food insecurity came up in a conversation with one of my customers today, and I mentioned a time i remembered being home with my brother at age 12, and rifling through the pantry looking for something to eat, while our parents were away at work, when there was a knock at the door. when we opened it, a volunteer from my parents church presented us with a giant carboard box of food, all kinds of food. similar to those boxes they give out at the salvation army - a loaf of bread, a sack of potatoes, a dozen eggs, a bag of oranges, a big block of cheese, cans of soup and boxes of rice and cereal, saltines and powdered milk. I was so excited I exclaimed, "oh my gosh, FOOD!!!!" and started jumping up and down, cheering about the food that just arrived on queue when i was hunting for something to eat, until I saw my brother, who was aghast, with such a look of horrified humiliation on his face. I guess he didn't want the church people to know that we were actually hungry? I mean it wasn't like we were literally starving, there was stuff in the pantry at home, just, nothing appetizing. this was so much better. i was just so grateful. I don't know who decided to help us out from the church, but i hope they know how grateful a little 12 year old girl was, that day, anyway. even if her older brother was ashamed of her display of glee over receiving a food box donation.
that was probably not an appropriate memory to share with a paying customer. oh well. she seemed to roll with it okay. hopefully i didn't put her off too much.
...
josh has taken to calling the pale white first quarter moon humboldt fog instead of cheddar or swiss cheese. pretty adorable husband i got there.
Editing to add that I finally feel relaxed and not in pain, and also Alex texted me back, which is completely unexpected and so delightful.
i have this feeling, as all of my friends pine for fall, that seasons are all just exactly the right length. maybe this is just an aspect of my life being in such a good place at the moment. (despite the current bout of pain.) i see the whispers of fall people are alluding to. our evenings are cooler, the mornings got back their slight chill, temporarily. the flowers are fading - so many got scorched to a crisp in that long heatwave. especially the roses. this is the second year in a row of the only two years i've ever seen summer sun in portland literally burn the midsummer plants. (we are doomed.) but i see the hydrangeas starting to turn, hinting at their fall fade. the numbers of crows gathering at night have increased from families of 4-6 to murders of 20-30, noisier a little each night. come september there will be hundreds of them in great boisterous clouds in the tops of the giant weeping aspens we have here in the courtyard.
but i love august so desperately. it's my favorite month, because it is the month i am in. typically this is the month of the year when i experience the least physical pain, this week's flare-up notwithstanding. there's something about that last gasp of summer, the elongated evenings, the long summer shadows, the lingering warmth, the crickets long into the night, the meteor showers, the moon the moon the moon. the flirations and romance, the summer music, long road trips to remote wooded escapes. skinny dipping, ice cream cones and air conditioned movies, long slow walks in twilight. early morning coffee and sunshine and dewdrops on the yellowing blades of grass. the leaves haven't started turning yet but a few pine needles are dusting the sidewalks, here. there are little strange pale mushrooms poking through the grass and vanishing just as quickly as they arrived. dragonflies and butterflies, the scent of sunscreen and lip gloss and lake water. stone fruit and late season berries, the way everyone is just a little bit more affectionate and playful. we must make the most of summer before it's gone, the air whispers silently.
fall will be just as beautiful. no need to rush it. i understand wanting it to be longer. i want all of the seasons to be longer. but right now, in this moment, it seems like they are all exactly the perfect length.
the little baby cottontail that found its way to our courtyard the other night has already perished, poor lil bunbun, i knew it was not long for this world, in this area. it makes me want to scream, but i don't. i understand this is just how the world is now and no amount of screaming will change it. (this isn't really about the bunny. it's about the world at large. it's about deep sea mining. and pesticides and herbicides. and all the destructive horrors humans inflict on this delicate planet. and it's about finley most likely making out with strangers at a dance event i cannot attend because technically i am not "fully vaccinated" despite being boosted and having recovered from an omicron infection in early june. it's about alex disappearing from bangbang tonight without saying goodbye. it's about how the only nice articles of clothing i own are pieces gifted to me by cynthia and natasha.)
...
for some reason the topic of food insecurity came up in a conversation with one of my customers today, and I mentioned a time i remembered being home with my brother at age 12, and rifling through the pantry looking for something to eat, while our parents were away at work, when there was a knock at the door. when we opened it, a volunteer from my parents church presented us with a giant carboard box of food, all kinds of food. similar to those boxes they give out at the salvation army - a loaf of bread, a sack of potatoes, a dozen eggs, a bag of oranges, a big block of cheese, cans of soup and boxes of rice and cereal, saltines and powdered milk. I was so excited I exclaimed, "oh my gosh, FOOD!!!!" and started jumping up and down, cheering about the food that just arrived on queue when i was hunting for something to eat, until I saw my brother, who was aghast, with such a look of horrified humiliation on his face. I guess he didn't want the church people to know that we were actually hungry? I mean it wasn't like we were literally starving, there was stuff in the pantry at home, just, nothing appetizing. this was so much better. i was just so grateful. I don't know who decided to help us out from the church, but i hope they know how grateful a little 12 year old girl was, that day, anyway. even if her older brother was ashamed of her display of glee over receiving a food box donation.
that was probably not an appropriate memory to share with a paying customer. oh well. she seemed to roll with it okay. hopefully i didn't put her off too much.
...
josh has taken to calling the pale white first quarter moon humboldt fog instead of cheddar or swiss cheese. pretty adorable husband i got there.
Editing to add that I finally feel relaxed and not in pain, and also Alex texted me back, which is completely unexpected and so delightful.