I’m reaching a stage in life where I think I should be mature and wise. And I’m not. I wonder how many people truly are.
It’s 94 feels like 103 which isn’t as bad as yesterday’s 97 feels like 107. I can’t be turning into somebody who can’t take heat; I can’t. Though this heat feels different. Read the post and see how. It also colors the tone of the post. Sorry
This state’s a frigging embarrassment. I had no idea that Spirit Air was my lifeline until it went on strike. Of course I had no idea it was going on strike until my friend called from Atlanta to say she couldn’t get here as her husband had been relying on Spirit to get back.
I looked in all last Friday’s newspapers here. Nothing about the strike in the print version of the Sun News. Nothing anywhere.
Then of course there’s the candidate from hell. Poor man probably doesn’t even realize he’s supposed to lose to DeMint. South Carolina bought voting machines from Ohio. Ohio, state of massive voter fraud in 04.
Ever since Westboro I have been feeling alienated. Where I come from we don’t turn the other cheek. Where I come from we believe in debate and protest.
But I moved here. And it’s hot. Not as hot as it was on Sunday or Monday but even inside with AC I feel the need for more and more water. I don’t like AC though it’s the one thing I won’t be green on and will put down to whatever I feel like. In a normal year there are a few months where you need neither heat nor AC. This year there was only one.
I like heat. But except for nights, the air hits me in a way I’m not used to. Then when I come in I sneeze. And sneeze. And sneeze. Couldn’t figure it out until I saw the pollen report. It’s very high which is strange as pollen is supposed to stagnate when the temp becomes high. Apparently the long winter has done something weird. Or something.
But there’s no such thing as climate change. Oh don’t get me started. I’m feeling very “L””J” today. Neither are good in South Carolina.
Yes I do take it take personally!!!!!
I’m having friends come–by car–next week and am focusing on my book. Unfortunately this blog is like a nervous tic. Something I have to keep up. So…
Excuse the tone of this post. If Spirit weren’t on strike I would be in a great mood. It’s summer and I have plans…Friends of a lifetime are supposed to be coming. Unfortunately they rely on airplanes. And a neighbor, from the next patio home community, I never met before had to stop over and tell me the exact price the house two doors from mine went for. At least it sold. Miss Frances was hungry to sell. But I was doing everything I could not to learn this because I knew it was a fire sale.
It could be worse. I could have moved to the Gulf.
And the neighbor I had never met before is very very nice. Porch friendly. And her mother is “J,” not that she tells anybody. I couldn’t figure out how she knew I was until I remembered the mezzuah on the door. It was a gift and is lovely.
Lately I’ve been very into Hebrew prayers. While I might not believe in a G-d, I have become enamored with listening to prayers–in movies OK. They question. They don’t assume G-d will take care of everything. And there’s a beauty in the Hebrew I never noticed in New York. Not that I listened.
I no longer feel like a guest here. No longer feel like I have to–how do I put this? Respect peoples ways without them respecting mine–and Westboro made me feel that way–just a bit.
If not for the strike and the embarrassment of the election and all the politics since I have moved, I would be very happy.
It’s just–turning the other cheek and me; we have never seen eye to eye. And to have Jon Stewart etc., talk about a place I love–and know they’re both right and wrong. I can’t watch any TV show I love right now for fear….so it’s late nights with Netflicks.
Fortunately it becomes real cool, or I feel real cool, late at night and I go out on my front deck, upper floor porch really, lie on the glider that turns into a sleeping hammock and all is right with the world.
The other night we had the most incredible thunderstorm. Lightening bolts in five directions at once.
I haven’t seen my friend Noel who is coming next week in quite awhile. He asked if my musical taste was still eclectic. It is but “Ophelia” has been my absolute favorite song for the past two years–and Levon Holm’s taking over Warren Zevon’s spot as inspiration