I’m back on the left coast for well over a week now and have managed to unpack and make a batch of soap. Productivity level is low. Very low. I can’t believe I’m going to say this but…I miss the nauseating heat and humidity. I’m screaming on the inside at the thought of fall. I am bundled up against the gray skies and brown landscape here. There is a tiny sesame seed size seed of hope. I started knitting a sweater. Not much to go on I know.
The grandchild is huge and his unfortunate haircut is growing out. He swings between being a warm sweet snugly thing to a wild thrashing, screaming, hitting beast. It’s almost like he’s doing an interpretive dance about his grandmother. He is also a natural born organizer. He likes tidying up. He does it without being asked and sometimes without even thinking about it. This is a trait that skipped a generation and it’s a lovely thing.
I’ve joined the gym so I can swim because it has become an addiction. It’s a one person pool with adjustable waves. It’s pretty awful but that’s the thing about addiction. One will go to any lengths. Olympic size or 10-12 feet.