I guess I'm due a ramble, so hold onto your hats. I hope y'all have been doin' okay. I've had a bit of a trudge here recently. Sometimes summer is like that in the south, meant to be spent away, on a lake, in the mountains or at the shore, rather than in the smoggy heat of the city that's gotten too big. Puttin' food on the table and a roof overhead gets in the way of such things though, and leaves us to, well, trudge, to find the little joy hidden in each moment, and then to dream.
We played baseball from late June until the end of July. It was exuberant. After taking a year off following twenty years on, I realized just how much I missed it once we were out there again. We didn't totally suck and finished in the middle of the pack (okay, the bottom of the middle but that's better than the middle of the bottom), but I think the guys had fun and I know that I did. We were lucky. Most of the season was cooler than normal. It got hot at the end, and we had one Sunday double header in 97 degrees with Code Red Smog. I'm too old for such shenanigans, but well practiced, so my dugout was prepared (the key is ice, ice and more ice). It could have been worse. Here's a shot I took with my phone on one of the cooler days in one of the cooler dugouts. Three pitchers seated and one catcher, The Youngest, hanging on the dugout, gear at his feet. One of my moms, whose 21 year old son has played for me since he was 15, made me a hard bound book of pictures she'd taken over the years. It's amazing (Shutterfly). Playing again was a great pleasure, one that made it not so bad to be in the city in the summer, but that's all done now.
Sis Bel is hanging in there, despite being very, very sick. She's been fighting shingles and I'm walking on eggshells, having never had chicken pox. They're continuing to give her the "experimental" chemotherapy (Erbitux), which is what they decided to do after everything they did, didn't work. It kicks her ass pretty badly, but, hey, she's still here, and she wasn't expected to be. I already knew this, but watching her struggle just serves to make me even more keenly aware that every day still here is, all by itself, a blessing, a reason for joy and gratitude.
I haven't felt much like writing, haven't had much to say, so here's the short summary: Summer is hot, and rain is a relief (and cleans the nasty city air). Baseball is good, except that the Braves suck, I mean really suck, for the first time since the players in the picture above were in diapers. I've been making pots again, and have glazed some. They're okay. I wish I could throw at home in the evenings. I really love having Middle Son back in Atlanta while simultaneously miss his being in New Orleans (I didn't say it had to make sense). His being home has led to my cooking dinner more often, which is good (I think). Work is hard (not really) and takes up so much time (see above), but working is a whole lot better than not working, since it's nice to have something to cook. I'm thinking I need to challenge myself, though, that I'm too comfortable and, therefore, not growing. I mean, easy isn't, well, good, most of the time. My diverticulitis has been acting up. It's like having my own little, you're doing too much burnin' that candle at both ends meter, telling me when I need to slow down. So, pass the broth and the pudding. I'm watching what I eat, practicing calming breaths and trying not to put any unnecessary pressure on myself. Last Friday, August 1st, our my 27th wedding anniversary passed without mention, probably for the best.
I've been watching politics and am disenchanted. It's become all about catching the free air at the top of the news cycle any way possible, rapidly turning into so much noise, almost indiscernible from entertainment "reporting". It's so important. It should be better than this. It isn't just that campaign dollars were spent on airhead celebs, but that the entire Sunday morning news cycle was riveted to it. Can we please just vote already?
Mostly, I've been trying to be extra good so I'll be ready and healthy for Rising Tide in New Orleans, August 22-24. The organizers have hit the ball out of the park by getting John Barry, the award-winning author of Rising Tide: The Great Mississippi Flood of 1927 and How It Changed America, a work that was named in 2004 by GQ as one of nine pieces of writing essential to understanding America, as the keynote speaker. If ever there was a time when a discussion of our nation's infrastructure was needed, this is that time. In addition, and just in part, there are planned panel discussions on education and journalism. This year's conference will be held at the Zeitgeist Multi-Disciplinary Arts Center, much closer to the heart of the action than in previous years. The Friday night party venue and Saturday conference lunch menu are yet to be announced, so stay tuned for more details and mark your calendars.
Okay. That's it. Keepin' it short (oops, well, shorter?). Thanks so much for reading. Peace, out, y'all.
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