Stargazing

Temperature: a cloudy 20/68 degrees.

Eating: hummus on rye.

Drinking: Would some poncha pack too much punch? It is Friday, after all. Madeira, que saudade!

Listening: to the wind in the wych elm. We didn't plant it but we're keeping it, and marveling at it.

Watching: Did you catch the Perseids? Or the (partial) solar eclipse? 

Reading: Now this is interesting. And this.

Thinking: By any metric, Trump is the most corrupt president the United States has ever had. 

Feeling: like trying erotic asphyxiation? Don't. I understand curiosity, the draw of novelty, but it's incredibly dangerous, messing with your breathing. If you know what you're doing, you can kill a person with your bare hands, surprisingly fast. If you don't know what you're doing, you can kill a person with your bare hands, surprisingly fast. Why risk injury or sudden death when there are tons of sexy fun to be had in sooo many other ways. Put your hand on my throat in anything but a you-got-something-there-let-me-swipe-that-off-for-you gesture or a gentle caress and I will break your arm.

Break 🙌 a 🙌 leg 🙌

You got this. 🌟

O verão bateu em minha porta

 ...e eu abri! July, sweetie darlings!! Birthday month, summer holiday month, letting my hair down month, and woah if the family ginger isn't getting more prominent as I age. (My great-uncle O was bald. Or so I thought. Turned out he'd a full head of hair, coarse and curly and roaring red. Clown was one of the milder monikers he had to endure. And so he shaved it all off for the rest of his days. I intend to keep mine, for his sake and for all the gingers out there. Let that red roar!)

But seriously, stay safe and hydrated, and don't forget to wear sunscreen, and keep to the shade at peak UV, and read a good book, or a really bad one you can unrecommend and use as a conversation starter starting a whole discussion about books and tastes and genres with a friend or a friendly stranger, and get some exercise in when it's not too hot, and cook a good meal and eat it with gusto, go see a movie or a play or visit a museum or several, celebrate art and artists and the miracle of being alive to witness and experience and cherish the beauty of the world around you.

Feliz São João!*🔥

Temperature: a cooler 20/68 degrees after a sultry solstice, but the heat is about to return. Nothing like what southern Europe is experiencing but still.

Eating: all manner of fresh summer produce.

Drinking: mineral water.

Listening: to Brazilian tunes in honor of Festa Junina, a colorful, flavorful month of celebrations centered around farming, the harvest season, the countryside, and rural life in general.

Watching: the World Cup here and there and with less enthusiasm every Copa. Money ruins everything; it really does.

Reading: Moominsummer Madness. “The sun had set, but now in June there was of course no darkness at night to speak of. The night was pale and dreamy and full of magic.”
 
Writing: anything new you'd like to share with your devotees?

Thinking: That studentfest was really something. And that other thing, awww! The world is not ready for your daughters. *cheeky grin*

Feeling: grateful we got to be a part of it all.

*Happy St. John's! 

June in bloom

Temperature: a partly cloudy 20/68 degrees.

Eating: leftovers from yesterday's BBQ.

Drinking: on a Monday? No. 

Listening: to the sounds of summer. How I've missed you!

Watching: the garden come to life. How I've missed this!

Reading: or rereading Who Goes Nazi? by Dorothy Thompson.
 
Writing: I've got notes scribbled here and there and on whatever was at hand I need to go through to see what belongs where. Sounds messy? Not at all. There is a place for everything and everything will find its place. 

Thinking: sweet baby Jesus, this is not even beyond the realms of possibility. I'm sure they could think of something and simply fabricate the rest.

Feeling: Chekhovian, and I only have to think of my boys and everything I stand to lose to swing that way, the world being what it is, with things steadily sliding in the wrong direction, all things considered. Here we are, serving a joint life sentence on this common planet of ours, some surfing with a drink in one hand and zero fucks given in the other, others drowning in the rising tide or a mudslide, and I know Chekhov didn't coin the phrase it's not over till it's over, but even while grappling with eternal questions of the human condition and the sorrows and horrors that abound, his characters are loath to give up. Yes, it's a god-awful mess, but are we just gonna gawk at it or are we going to do what we can, like thinking, feeling, proactive people should. Lantern or candle or phone in hand, if that's all you have, which in darkness is plenty.