I’ve got Slaid Cleaves cranked on the stereo, and I’ve been puttering for about an hour – putting away old things and finding homes for new things, like the wind chime that I bought earlier today. I’ve been wanting one of those NICE ones for, let me think, almost ten years, since I first brushed up against one at Sycamore Hot Springs in Avila Beach. Before that, wind chimes meant the nice tinkle of random bits of metal. But dang, like the Avila ones, my new ones are TUNED. I stood in the store for a good fifteen minutes, playing each of the different ones. People were considering assassination. But it was important.
I hung them on the end of the house, where I’ll be able to hear them from the living room, the bathroom, and the bedroom. Of course, it’s an almost perfectly still day today. I’m going to go blow on them again.
Okay, I’m back.
I’m driving home on Monday to see the little mama for her birthday. This was a secret. Dad and I had been plotting – he had asked her to lunch in SLOtown, saying he wanted to try a new restaurant for her birthday – she had turned him down. We were in the middle of plotting again today when she picked up the phone, right when I was saying, “So I’ll just meet you at home at one?”
Dude. There’s no recovery from that. So at least she has time to pick a movie to go see after lunch….
I’ve actually rented a car, since my convertible’s getting WAY up there in miles, and it doesn’t have air-conditioning. I know that’s a dumb thing to say about a convertible, but convertibles are good for nice weather, not hot weather. They SUCK in temperatures over a hundred degrees when the drive lasts more than a couple of hours. And to get home, there’s a three-hour corridor of heat to be navigated through Steinbeck country. Ugh. So for less than $20, I’m driving something like a Ford Probe there and back, air-conditioned all the way. I swear, I’m so excited about that part.
Off to sit on the porch. And to blow on my wind chime.
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