Did you hear it? I imagine it was so loud it went far and wide. That was a sigh you heard. The heat has finally broken. My world is getting back to normal. Last night it even rained, sort of a cherry on the sundae of cool air. I slept soundly though still on the couch as upstairs was beastly hot. During the night I even grabbed a throw as it got cold, yup, cold, at least in comparison. The dogs have stopped panting. Nala slept with me on the couch. I have stopped sweating without even moving. It is 74°. Tomorrow may even get down to the 60’s. Glorious!

I have hit that stage in my life when small things brother me while other things I can easily ignore. I am not fond of too much heat or too much cold. I have trouble getting up and sitting down. I have a stoop when I walk. I want comfortable shoes and loose clothes. I can ignore dust. Most times I am content just staying home. I eat at odd hours. My meals no longer have names, no longer breakfast, lunch or dinner. They don’t fit anymore. My bedtimes are whenever. Lately I go to bed close to when I used to wake up when I worked. My complaints are small, about little things. I have settled well into this stage of my life.

In Ghana, small cardboard coasters came with every drink. I used to put mine under my glass, American style. Ghanaians put theirs on the top rims of their glasses. I never gave that much thought. Since then, especially lately, I have appreciated those rim coasters. They are big deterrents. The gnats are back, but few bother me. They are drawn to the den light. Small black bugs are piled under the lamp. They are also attracted to whatever I am drinking. They float belly up on top of the liquid, but now I am using a coaster on the rim. In the way back days, before Ghana, bugs in my food would have disgusted me. Now I just pick them out

I can hear the world returning. The birds are singing. I heard voices earlier as people emerged from their caves. The people next door even had a bit of a spat, yelling at each other. I didn’t understand as they were speaking in maybe Portuguese. They do speak perfect English, but I guess fights are far better in a family language.

Today’s dump day. My trunk is nearly filled. The heaviest one is waiting by the front door. I’m going to go late in the afternoon. I also need a few groceries. That’s my day.

This entry was posted on July 5, 2026 at 1:33 pm and is filed under Musings. You can subscribe via RSS 2.0 feed to this post's comments. You can comment below, or link to this permanent URL from your own site.