52/370: Heating
Mar. 8th, 2026 08:15 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rejectomorphDaylight time snuck up on me, but fortunately the computer and phone clocks adjust themselves. One less thing for my aged brain to keep track of. But Saturday night I got distracted and let my dinner burn, and it filled the place with smoke. Not enough to trigger the smoke alarm, but enough to be annoying and force me to turn on the fan, and make the place chilly. I ended up needing to use a bit of gas to reheat the place, which would not have been necessary had I not been a decrepit twit. Still, it could have been worse. It had been a mild day, and the night didn't get too cold, so it was probably only a few cents worth of gas.
The mildness is continuing for several days, and then it's going to get, well, fecking hot. By mid March we will be getting highs in the high eighties, which is like June weather. Needless to say I get worried when shit like this happens. Summer has become the very worst time of year for me. The heat exhausts me, and the expense of air conditioning threatens to leave me broke. It's gotten to the point that I don't even like remembering the childhood summers I so much enjoyed at the time. An additional worry is that we could get fires. Wildfire smoke is no longer just an annoyance to me. It's downright debilitating. If summer is hellish, which I expect it will be, we'd better get some damned good watermelons as compensation.
Sunday Verse
by Robert Bly
God does what she wants. She has very large
Tractors. She lives at night in the sewing room
Doing stitchery. Then chunks of land at mid-
Sea disappear. The husband knows that his wife
Is still breathing. God has arranged the open
Grave. That grave is not what we want,
But to God it’s a tiny hole, and he has
The needle, draws thread through it, and soon
A nice pattern appears. The husband cries,
“Don’t let her die!” But God says, “I
Need a yellow dot here, near the mailbox.”
The husband is angry. But the turbulent ocean
Is like a chicken scratching for seeds. It doesn’t
Mean anything, and the chicken’s claws will tear
A Rembrandt drawing if you put it down.
In memory of Jane Kenyon
The mildness is continuing for several days, and then it's going to get, well, fecking hot. By mid March we will be getting highs in the high eighties, which is like June weather. Needless to say I get worried when shit like this happens. Summer has become the very worst time of year for me. The heat exhausts me, and the expense of air conditioning threatens to leave me broke. It's gotten to the point that I don't even like remembering the childhood summers I so much enjoyed at the time. An additional worry is that we could get fires. Wildfire smoke is no longer just an annoyance to me. It's downright debilitating. If summer is hellish, which I expect it will be, we'd better get some damned good watermelons as compensation.
Sunday Verse
The Yellow Dot
by Robert Bly
God does what she wants. She has very large
Tractors. She lives at night in the sewing room
Doing stitchery. Then chunks of land at mid-
Sea disappear. The husband knows that his wife
Is still breathing. God has arranged the open
Grave. That grave is not what we want,
But to God it’s a tiny hole, and he has
The needle, draws thread through it, and soon
A nice pattern appears. The husband cries,
“Don’t let her die!” But God says, “I
Need a yellow dot here, near the mailbox.”
The husband is angry. But the turbulent ocean
Is like a chicken scratching for seeds. It doesn’t
Mean anything, and the chicken’s claws will tear
A Rembrandt drawing if you put it down.
In memory of Jane Kenyon
