Ten after 7:00 p.m. Trot up the hall and ratchet down the AC thermostat. Hotter than the hubs in here!
Actually, it’s prob’ly not that hot. I think it’s a little humid. Sticky and dark outside. Artificially cooled yet still plenty warm inside.
Ruby the Corgi has taken up residence at the foot of the bed. The human has perched on the bed, too…hoping against hope that the air conditioner will cool the bedroom into the sleep-able range. Both critters are huffing and puffing in an uncomfortable atmosphere.
At this point — this absurdly early point! — what the human would like most is to go to sleep. That ain’t likely to happen anytime soon, though. And so we loaf.
LOL! The best sound in the world resonates from the neighbors’ backyard just now: little kids playing and laughing. What COULD be better?
They have two tiny ones whose lovely voices fill the evening air. If they could just stay little for the rest of my life, eh?
I do love this neighborhood. Can’t imagine anyone wanting to live in Sun City, where the silence of the mausoleum holds forth. But…I guess that doesn’t fit everyone, eh?
My father hated the sound of kids playing. That was for a surprisingly rational reason: he worked the swing shift and so had to sleep during the day and go to work on the docks all night. So what he wanted most in the afternoons was…silence. Freakin’ dead silence! And he would get amazingly crabby if any of the neighbors’ brats were playing outside in their yards while he was trying to sleep.
He did love Sun City, though. As did my mother. When fighter jets weren’t charging around out of Luke Air Force Base, yea verily the sound of the mausoleum did hold forth. It was so quiet out there as to be positively creepy.
And as for my mother? She wasn’t any fonder of the symphony of kids’ play than he was. In fact, I don’t think she cared much for children at all. I often wondered why they had me — why, in particular, she had me, since she didn’t seem to enjoy children around her. But she was nuts about her own child, so I made out all right. I guess.
Actually, I think her grandmother — my great-grandmother — urged her to have a kid. Hence, I materialized one day back in 1945. VE day: the last day of World War II. Hence the name: “Victoria.”
Meanwhile, as we scribble…I reckon my excellent son has about finished off his endless and grinding and lonely day’s work — his employer discovered they could dispense with office rent by making their employees work out of their own homes! — and by now must be getting up from his desk to putter around the house.
Hmmm…. I do believe that if I had to do a full day’s office work, I would not like to do it from home. Altogether too grinding!
When I worked for the Great Desert University — mostly teaching, plus a little editorial — I did work from home most of the time. But the university provided me with an office and all its accouterments, so it was easy to break the monotony by traipsing out to campus and spending a few hours on the job there. But that doesn’t seem to be the case for M’hijito: he works from home. Period.
That, I prob’ly would hate. But then…let’s face it: I hate work. 😀
Just back from a mile-plus peregrination of the ‘Hood,