Monday, August 10, 2026

     My friend and I talk frequently about the meaning of our lives as old people. We are both frustrated.  We want more in our life of health, energy, purpose.  And then she says the answer is 42 and we both laugh. Yes the HITCHHIKER’S GUIDE TO THE UNIVERSE, the book we all read decades ago. This is the answer to the meaning of life. JUST, FORTY TWO. Sigh.

     I spoke too soon. Fire season is here with smoke and flames in our county. No flames near me yet but the smoke is here. This is definitely a distraction from the sounds of roaring cars of car week. I would rather have noisy cars then flames.

     Foggy morning. I am wearing my puffer jacket in my bedroom eating my breakfast.  Outside a group of tiny birds are moving around the bottle bush trees. The six foot sun flower plant on the deck is now blooming. The flower greets me this morning through the kitchen window. My roommate is back and cooks a dinner from the backyard farm, steamed artichokes and Italian squash pasta.

     I am reading THE LAST THING HE TOLD ME by Laura Dave.  The story is familiar.  I am not sure if I read the book before or watched the TV series. It is a compelling story.  We watch the last episode of season one, THE CAPTURE.  Good unexpected ending. We will continue with the next season. And our favorite warm and funny show, TRYING continues to be excellent.  I forgot all about our dangerous president this weekend.

 

Sunday, August 9, 2026    

     I have been ignoring fire season.  No fires or smoke here in Monterey yet.  But the fires are getting closer each day. A hundred thousand men are expected to arrive, to scrutinize cars, fancy, unusual cars. It is a treat for them and for our local businesses. Some of us are staying at home to avoid the crowds. Car week lasts 10 days. The police are on alert and the city will earn traffic ticket money. A win for our local economy. I am more perplexed then annoyed with car week.

     I focus on doing household chores, making up beds, doing dishes, laundry, taking a shower. I postpone showering.  I wait for the sun’s warmth, but no, the fog is persistent. How long can I go unwashed.

     This morning two hummingbirds race through the bottle bush trees. Mostly a blur until they start working a red flower. Sounds of airplanes flying over my house.

     My roommate is gone for the weekend. The house is quiet. The fog stays through out the day. By evening I am ready to not be alone. I try out new TV shows. I can only watch a few minutes of two different stand up comedians.  Netflix has two shows I watch, THE BOMBING OF PAN AM 103 and GOOD MEDICINE, good enough shows. Later in my bedroom I continue reading SLEEPING GIANTS, a novel by Rene Denfeld. She is becoming a favorite author.

 

Saturday, August 8, 2026

     I have crooked stubby toes.  Sitting in my recliner with bare feet I see my feet clearly.  I can’t complain, they are pain free, even being 86 year old toes. I can’t always tell when I am wearing socks. So, my feet are a bit numb.

     I walk out to the mail box to pick up several days mail. Mostly for my roommate. I was going to ask my roommate to pick up the mail and then decide really it would good for me to do it. The fog is just returning in the late afternoon. We did have some sun in the afternoon.

     I took a long nap in the afternoon. I was tired. And I am moving slowly around the house.  Read a bit and scroll through facebook looking for something interesting. Babies and toddlers laughing do it for me.

     In the evening, we watch another episode of the TV series THE CAPTURE. I love it and it is the most complicated TV series I have ever seen. Takes a while to understand what is going on. I am now reading Rene Denfeld’s novel SLEEPING GIANTS. Most of the national news is on Trump’s anger at his crew and the courts.  He is losing it. But still people are afraid of his retaliation.