Saturday, July 5, 2025

     The only sound I hear is a dog barking persistently all afternoon. I can’t hear the parade or the bands playing or the crowd. Were they quiet or am I not hearing so well? Once the stars come out the firework blasts and explosions arrive. Sounds of war.

     The highlands baker arrives with fresh baked rye bread and conversation, in the late afternoon.  I get to tell her my current medical stories. I have endless stories. I suspect most of my visitor are tired of them. I am tired of them. But I am also tired of talking about our dreadful politics.

     Started reading Chris Lintott’s book, ACCIDENTAL ASTRONOMY, How random discoveries shape the science of space. Now here is something new to talk about.

     Meals on Wheels brings extra food for the three day weekend. More food than I can actually eat. I have a lot of choices for my meals. I am still watching CLARKSON’S FARM on prime. I had no idea that farming is so hard.

 

Friday, July 4, 2025

      The radio is playing a Strauss Waltz this morning. Suddenly I am back in my father’s restaurant eating breakfast as a little kid, in the 1940’s.  They play the Strauss Waltzes on a repeating tape. I must have heard that tape hundreds of times. Maybe millions of times.

     My car is becoming an adult this summer, 18 years old.  Old enough to drink. A brown Honda Element, a workhorse of a car. 70,000 miles on it. Yep, I don’t travel far these days but it is always ready for action. I share the car with a colony of hidden spiders who create webs around the doors. The paint is peeling, but no rust on this plastic body. I no longer worry that someone will steal it. The car reminds me of a bread truck and who doesn’t like to drive a bread truck.

     I am slowly reading Robert Macfarlane’s new book, IS A RIVER ALIVE. It explores the nature of rivers. New ideas to ponder, new ways of experiencing my living.

     I eat a home cooked tasty lunch with three friends. But even better is the easy talk between us.  We are all old now, and still curious and wise. A great retrieve from my usual solitary life.

 

Thursday, July 3, 2025

     This morning, I wake up to thick low fog, another damp gray day.  Summer in Monterey. A neighbor sends an email complementing me on my back yard clean up. The grasses and plants have been cut and removed leaving a large expanse of clear space. We are all afraid of fire season. I do miss the complex meadow plants growing in the back yard.

     When I wake up from my afternoon nap, I see a plastic bag on the coffee table sitting by the support chickens. Someone has crept into the house and left this package. A gigantic slice of Rosine’s carrot cake. A mystery. Later a text from the dog lover admitting to the cake caper.

     We watch more episodes of CLARKSON’S FARM. A surprisingly wonderful documentary show. In the evening it is THE LAST DETECTIVE series.

     I answer all the questions correctly in the telephone interview. Now I am officially a member of the surgical team Kathy. I am given the role of designated patient. I struggle with keeping my anxiety down.