We had another brief thunderstorm and gentle rain yesterday.
Just in case, I put the dishpan under the light fixture in my study, but it wasn’t needed. š
July 25, 2026
We had another brief thunderstorm and gentle rain yesterday.
Just in case, I put the dishpan under the light fixture in my study, but it wasn’t needed. š
July 25, 2026
Angus has an interesting take on that:
Here Angus is surprised to find out that another birthday has rolled around. It’s only what seems like three or four months since the last one. Time, like chocolate bars, seems to have suffered from shrinkflation.
Andy and I can relate to that!
July 23, 2026
.
Angus and his wife sold their farm in Scotland in 2004 and moved to warmer climes to escape the cold winters. They tried Provence and Italy, then moved to southwest France in 2009. Then the summers became too warm, so in 2022 it was back to the northeast coast of Scotland to escape the heat.
I remember 60 years ago in Paris seeing all the advertisements in January and February inviting us to visit the Mediterranean to escape the dreary winter. Now apparently tourists are opting to take “coolcacions” in Scotland and the Scandinavian countries.
How things are changing.
July 22, 2026
The Calvin and Hobbes cartoon yesterday,
reminded me of a 2007 post, If You’re Working Too Hard, You’re Doing It Wrong!:
If you’re working too hard, you’re doing it wrong! Swimming is a lazy sport.
—A great teacher of swimming…and of lifeI can’t remember her name, but I will never forget her. It was my second quarter of swimming at college. At that time we all had to take two quarters of Physical Education, and the first quarter almost turned me against swimming for life. The teacher was looking for perfection and was critical of everything we did. But I had always loved being in the water, thrashing around and calling it swimming. I could be turning blue with cold when I was a kid and would steadfastly deny it. I didn’t get much chance to swim and I was going to make the most of it.
So I signed up for another quarter and hoped for the best. And I got it. This teacher’s aim was to teach us to trust the water. She taught us to float…not in the usual way, lying on our backs…but by walking across the deep end of the pool, our heads safely out of the water. She showed us that if we made gentle arm and leg motions, we could easily reach the other side of the pool. The water, indeed, did hold us up. I can’t remember what we did the rest of the quarter…I do know it was fun and there was no worry about doing the crawl correctly. We could swim anyway that worked for us. The main thing was to enjoy the process. Since then I’ve swum thousands of miles, using my own unique stroke…with my head out of the water and my glasses on.
I’ve been thinking of that a lot the past few weeks. Some self-development blogs have been discussing what a struggle it is to change ourselves. My instinctive reaction is, “If you’re working too hard, you’re doing it wrong!” The first rule of behavior modification is to love and accept yourself the way you are. That doesn’t mean there aren’t things you’d like to change, but if you’re fighting yourself it’s just like swimming. Fighting the water is counterproductive. You’re wasting your energy. Stop thrashing around. Be gentle.
I believe that’s what Max Erhmann was saying when he wrote, “You are a child of the universe no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here.” And like all creatures, you’re always changing. Don’t criticize the bud because it’s still unfolding and not yet a flower. Trust the process. It’s all right to guide your own growth, but do it with love and respect. For me, at least, it’s a sacred process.
What about you? Are you gentle with yourself? Do you give yourself room to grow? Do you honor the process?
July 21, 2026
I’m with Lucy! I hated baseball. š
July 20, 2026
Do you remember the Wednesday thunderstorm I told you about?
It turns out that afternoon there was water gushing into my study from the light fixture on the ceiling. I put a dishpan under the leak, soaked up most of the water from the rug, and told our apartment management.
The next day we heard tromping around on the roof, so presumably they fixed the problem. I’ll keep my eye on it if it rains again, but we are so glad we are living in an apartment and don’t have to worry about maintenance.
July 19, 2026
Angus got his shot Wednesday and wrote,
I’m due at the cottage hospital for my second Shingles shot later this morning. The first one laid me low for a couple of days so ‘The Font’ is preparing for a replay of life with a grumpy ox.
Thursday he wrote,
Normal service will resume tomorrow after a few more restorative naps and the consumption of lots of Paracetamol. ‘The Font’ returns from the morning walk on the beach with the news that both the lady with the Pomeranian and Archie the arthritic labradors owner have had their shingles vax with absolutely zero side effects.
And today he wrote:
The effects of the shingles vaccine have now completely worn off and life has returned to normal. No one has been able to explain to me why this is the only shot I’ve ever had a reaction to.
He talks about all sorts of other things too, of course. The subtitle of his blog is.
A record of those unimportant little things that are too important to be forgotten.
Yes! He knows how to honor and savor life. That’s why I love blogging.
July 18, 2026
No, I’m not talking about the Scandinavian midsummer — a few days from the solstice — that celebrates the days of maximum sunlight. I’m talking about the middle of the meteorological summer (June, July, and August). That summer is 92 days long (30 + 31 +31). So yesterday was the end of the first half, and today is the beginning of the second half of summer.
If I lived way up north I too might celebrate the days of longest sunlight. But down here in the Southwest — where it’s often sunny even in winter — I’m more aware of when the temperature starts dropping at night. I treasure good sleeping weather. And the days are getting shorter.
In fact, this has mostly been a great — but lazy — summer for me. But I’m amused at what different people celebrate, and what they call midsummer.
July 17, 2026