Sunday, June 23, 2024

     Waking up from a deep nap I see a fly walking across the ceiling.  How do they do it? Upside down?  Does not gravity affect them?  There are no answers to my question.  Family is gone back to their lives, and now, it is just me and the fly.

     In 1970 I moved out of a house where I was a tired single parent with three young children. The landlady sent a letter explaining why she was not returning the security deposit.  Pages of handwritten description of what a horrible, terrible tenant I had been.  I read only the first paragraph and was deeply distressed. I hid the unread letter in the back of my freezer.  It stayed there for years until I finally threw it away still unread.

     I am back to reading about life in Shanghai.  A detective story RED IS BLACK by Qiu Xiaolong. An interesting series of novels.  I am still slowly reading WHY WE REMEMBER by Charan Ranganath.

     It is my turn to create noise in the neighborhood.  The energetic handyman uses a leaf blower, a weed wacker, and power tools for my yearly home and yard maintenance.  A day and a half, and he is done.