The windows and doors are open. It is a bit cooler at 78˚ so I’m airing the house. Thundershowers are predicted for this afternoon. I’ll finish here and hurry to take my shower, my outside shower, before it rains. On second thought, why should rain make a difference?

Today is another lazy day because my only chores are to water the inside plants and repot a couple. I also need to take dinner out of the freezer. What will I choose? I’m leaning toward ground beef. I”ll figure the rest out later.

A spawn of Satan scared the heck out of himself and Henry. I let the dog out, but, unbeknownst to me, there was a spawn on the steps. It saw Henry first, and the spawn took off but fell in its haste to get away from Henry who finally saw the spawn running and took off after him. I could hear the rustling of the bed of leaves in the backyard then it was quiet. I knew the spawn had climbed out of danger. Henry, the defeated hunter, came home. I gave him a snack. It took out a bit of the sting out his ineptitude.

I can hear the birds and nothing else. Henry hasn’t barked once, an indicator that no marauders have gone by my house. Yesterday he barked so much he drove me crazy. The front door was shut because of the AC so he couldn’t see who was making the noise which had caught his attention. The back door was also shut so he couldn’t go out on his own to investigate. I had to keep getting up and letting him out at every bark. He barked wolf more than not though twice he barked at deliveries. Henry wanted his final out around 1:30. All he did was step to the deck, two steps down, look around the yard then turn around to come back inside. I was there at the door waiting to let him in because every night Henry checks the backyard before we go to bed.

Despite the wind, today is another hot day, another humid day. The sun comes and goes. Rain, scattered showers, is predicted for tonight. Right now it is already 85˚. Tonight will be in the mid 60’s. I need to find my down jacket!

I’m sitting here chilling in the cool house for the third or fourth day. I only venture into the outside world to finish an errand or two. Yesterday I made it to the dump. It was busy. I next went to Ring’s Grocery. It was also busy. I bought bread, lemonade, hummus, a piece of chocolate cake, tabbouleh, a Milky Way and a couple of dog biscuits. I must have figured the hummus and tabbouleh negated the cake and candy bar.

Each day I’ve had insightful, witty, intelligent observations about my small world and the greater world outside the front door. I tell Henry about everything. He’s unimpressed unless I add the word treat.

I have given up watching the news channels today; instead, I am watching a movie called Six Underground.

Today is baseball’s opening day. My poor Red Sox look a bit hapless this year. They traded the best, Mookie, and their pitching staff lacks pitchers. I watched one game and parts of another the last couple of days. The Sox were playing the Blue Jays. They are worse off than the Sox. They don’t yet have a home field. Canada doesn’t want them back home after they’ve come from here.

I cut lumps off Jack yesterday. I used the recently sharpened scissors. They glided through the fur, and Jack didn’t care enough to move. A couple of weeks ago I cut the tips off Henry’s nails. I had Lee, half of my cleaning couple, hold each paw while I cut the nails. Henry didn’t mind.

I have nothing to do. I don’t even have a wash I can moan about. Today is house cleaning day. All I have to do is hold up my feet on request. I think I’ll rest up before hand.

The air conditioner is still blasting. I am still hearing voices. It is still hot.

The temperature is 82˚. The high will be 86˚. My to do list is short: go to the dump. Sound familiar? Going to the dump has taken over the top spot as most disliked chore. The laundry has slipped to number two. Going to the dump means hauling or dragging to the car and trunk the heavy trash bags, the recycle bags, the empty boxes and whatever else is hanging around waiting to be tossed, like the barbecue cover destroyed by spawns. This morning I brought out a couple of trash bags when I picked up the papers. I’ll go to the dump this afternoon. I’ve backed myself into the corner. I have no choice now. There’s a trash bag already in the trunk.

I was on the deck late yesterday afternoon. The air was still and humid. I sat for a bit to take in the day then I watered all the deck and strawberry plants. Henry was out with me. He kept running into the yard then back up to the deck and then back again. When he started panting, we went inside. It was cold.

When I was a kid, I never watched the news on TV. I don’t even think my parents did. We got the newspaper every day, but the only part of the paper I read was the funnies. My town was my entire world. I knew every part of it. I had ridden my bike all over town for years. I knew all the best spots. I never got tired or bored. I always brought my lunch. My favorite sort of picnic stop was on a bench under the trees by the town hall.

People are renting next door. Henry barks when they go out and he barks when they come back. This will be a long week.

(Sorry for the late posting, but my computer wasn’t playing nice, and Henry was barking. I had to keep checking the front to see why he was barking. Twice I had packages but all the other times it was a dog crying wolf.)

The last few days I have been hearing voices. I stop working, mute the TV and listen. The voice is low, the words are jumbled. The first time I heard the voice I walked through the house and found nothing. Since then, I’ve heard the voices a few more times.

I learned a new word yesterday, pareidolia. It is when one hears patterns in random data and interprets them as music and conversation. Fans, rushing wind, air conditioners and the drone, the hum, on board a plane in flight are some causes. My air conditioner has been on for the last two days. I am not crazy. I am not hearing voices.

Yesterday I was busy. I finally cleared the dining room of the deck furniture covers I had brought inside before it rained one day last week. I found a bin under the deck, emptied it and then filled it with the covers. The filled bin was so heavy I had to push it from the house to the deck where it sits. Today I’ll slide the bin down the outside stairs to put it back under the deck. I swept the kitchen and dining room. I folded the clean laundry and put the last of the wash into the dryer where it still sits waiting for me. Henry is also waiting as his fluffy couch cover was washed.

This morning I opened the screen door to get the papers, and, as soon as I stepped out, a Ghana moment leapt from my memory drawers. Because I wanted every bit of that moment, I shut the door behind me and stood on the steps. I could feel the rhythm of the day. Today’s morning air reminded me of every morning of the dry season in Ghana when the mornings felt comfortable, but you knew the afternoons would be blistering.

Tropical is today’s word of the day. The TV weatherman used it a few times in his forecast this morning to describe today and tomorrow. The humidity will be stifling. It is currently 81%, but the air conditioner is keeping the house cool and dry.

My den window gives me a peek at the outside world. I can see the blue sky and bouts of sunshine. I can watch the big branches of the oak trees being tossed by a now and again wind. I saw the day get dark when the sun disappeared behind a cloud, but the sun came back. It keeps doing that, going and coming. I keep watching.

I’m reading two books, one upstairs and another downstairs. Upstairs I read my iPad while downstairs my book is substantial. One book is a mystery while the other book is science fiction. Interesting to me is those two genres would also have been my choices when I was ten.

I still need to go to the dump. I keep postponing the inevitable because I truly hate going to the dump. Seriously, why would I like loading the car with trash and bags of recycles then going to the dump to unload said trash in three or four spots?

The dump is a vast wasteland behind and beyond the recycle and trash bins. In the winter, the wind whips across. I always think of the dump when its windy and cold as the tundra, the steppes. This time of year the sun is so bright I can’t see when I first get out of the car. I stand by the car door a bit and wait for my eyes to adjust. When I can see, I start emptying at the recycle bins then move on to the trash. It never takes very long. Sometimes, when I’ve finished with this ordeal, I reward myself with a Dunkin’ ice coffee and a donut. It’s on the way home.

The house was cool when I woke up so I was shocked by the blast of heat when I went to get the newspapers. When I got back inside, I turned on the air conditioning to keep the heat at bay. The house is comfortable now except I feel as if I’m living in a cave. I haven’t turned on any lights. The back of the house is dark.

When I was growing up, we mostly went on day trips during my father’s vacations, but we did spend a few days here and there in Ogunquit at a cottage belonging to a friend of my father’s. It was in a village of small cottages, rows and rows of them. The attraction was the ocean, only a few minutes walk from the cottage. The problem was the water was freezing. I never went in beyond my feet when the tide was high, but low tide was different. There were sand bars and tidal pools. In a few of the pools small slivery fish swam, but they too fast to catch with my hands.

Sand dunes separated the big beach from the small beach. I’d walk over to the big beach with my father where I’d watch in amazement as he body surf. First off he didn’t care about the cold water. He ran, jumped into the surf and swam out beyond where the waves broke so he could catch one. When he did, he looked like a sleek weirdly colored dolphin riding the surf.

In the cottage, most of the space was taken up by beds to accommodate the family. There was a small table and some chairs in the front room, but we usually ate outside. My father grilled.

I was always bored when we went to Maine. There were few things for kids my age to do. Mostly I just read, but I do remember I went into town one night to see a movie. I don’t remember the movie, but I do remember that just about every seat in the theater was filled.

There were tall sand dunes by the big beach. One time, when I was a kid, I was wandering the beach area looking for shells and driftwood. I decided to walk through the dunes to the cottage. I was shocked to see two naked sunbathers lying on the sand between two of the dunes. I ran home.

The rain fell but for only a short while. Poor Henry was out, and I wasn’t at the door to let him in so he went under the deck out of the rain. When I called him, he checked first to make sure I was there then came upstairs. Henry is now on the couch resting from his ordeal.

Yesterday I received my vote by mail application. All registered voters in Massachusetts received one, with no excuse required. I can have ballots mailed to me for the primary in September and the election in November. I’m sending in my card.

It is chilly right now at 68˚, but it will get warmer, into the low 70’s. My dance card is empty right now. I have dump fodder, but I really don’t want to go. I don’t even want to get dressed. I’m going to hang around the house, maybe watch a movie, definitely read.

When I was a kid, summer rain meant no fun at the playground, but my mother never insisted we stay dry inside the house so we didn’t. I think it was a self-defense decision for her with four kids stuck in a smallish house. I’d take my bike out of the cellar to ride in the rain. I loved speeding through puddles, the bigger the better. I’d take my feet off the pedals and raise my legs in the air over the backwash from my front tire. It was exhilarating.

I love the sound of the rain. I remember it tapping against the long windows in my elementary school and banging on the roof over my head when I was in the fourth grade. Rain plinks when it hits a puddle. Rain on a tin roof drowns out all sounds except its own. It is loud, commanding. Today’s rain was quiet, gentle. I had to stand outside to see if it was still raining. It was, but since then the rain has stopped. Just now the sky got lighter. Dare I hope?

Today is perfection. The bright sun is framed by a blue sky with only a few small clouds. The breeze is keeping the day cool. It’s 71˚. The high may only reach 73˚. The low tonight will be around 62˚. That’s the way it was last night when I closed the windows and the two doors. Periodically, Henry paced from the couch to the hall and back and forth, a signal of his I learned the hard way when he first came. Henry needed out, but the door was closed. Now I get up and open it and close it again. I am well trained but Henry isn’t quite yet. I’ll have to teach him Poochie Bells.

In the evenings lately, I’ve been going through some catalogues. Every now and again I find the perfect Christmas present for someone so I order it. I know this is really early, but my mother always said, “Buy it when you see it. It might never be there again.” She was right, and I listened.

The last two days have been busy for me. I actually got dressed on both days and went out. Yesterday was to the dentist for my cleaning. At least I got a new tooth brush and some floss. I had one more medical stop then I was done. The day before, when I did three errands, including groceries and gas, I’d have expected cheers and confetti, but just doing three errands paled in comparison to what happened later. I did my laundry. Yes, I did. I finished three loads and hauled them up two floors and put them away. While I was in my bedroom, I changed the sheets and started all over again.

Coffee will be shorter today. The rain is imminent, and I want to finish my errands before the soaking. Errands? I didn’t do them yesterday. I didn’t go out. I don’t even think I did anything. I might have, but I don’t remember. All my days have melted together. Last week I thought every day was Saturday. This week I know the days, but the week goes slowly.

Being a sucker for punishment, I watch MSNBC and CNN, mostly at night despite being driven crazy by the late night commercials. There are far too many, and each set of commercials is so long I can whip up dinner, put it on the plate and start eating, but even worse is the repetition. The same commercials appear over and over. No, I don’t want WeatherTech. I don’t want an upright walker. I don’t want a walk-in tub. I don’t need any medications with all those side affects. See the trend?

My air conditioner has been running for the last three days except for periodic stops to open windows and doors to grab a bit of fresh air. Today will be hot and humid with a high of 77˚. Thunder showers are predicted for later. Tonight will get cooler, down to 66˚. Most days I have to check the paper or ask Alexa for the weather because my only exposure to fresh air is the run for the morning paper and yesterday’s mail.

I’m going to make a meatloaf tonight. I don’t know what will go in it yet. I have to rummage through my fridge. I’m going to frost my meatloaf with mashed potatoes the way my mother did. It always looked liked a loaf cake to me, an ice cream loaf cake. I have some carrots. I’ll add a glaze of honey when I cook them. I’m already excited for dinner.