The day is hazy, humid and cloudy. It is 79°. Showers are predicted for tonight. The fan is keeping us cool in the thick, hot air. Nala is deep asleep on the couch. Henry is asleep on the floor in the breeze from the back door. I suspect he thinks he’s roughing it. I think today is a perfect sloth day.

Henry is suspicious when I open the door to let him inside the house. He wonders if his infection is going to get sprayed or if his eyes are to have anti-itch cream rubbed around them. I keep him wondering. Sometimes he gets one while other times he gets both, and then there are times he gets neither. That was this morning. I’ll get him later.

I remember having to wear a bathing cap in the town pool. It was sort of like a head girdle as it was rubber and difficult to stretch. Getting it off was even more difficult, it being wet and all. I never understood the need for it.

I am watching the 1954 movie Monster from the Ocean Floor. It is wonderfully bad and filled with stereotypes typical back then. I was thrilled to find a 50’s black and white science fiction movie I’ve never seen. Now I need popcorn.

When I was a kid, Sunday was always a special day. I had to go to mass. Usually I walked. I went to the downstairs mass. It was always shorter than upstairs as often there wasn’t a sermon. It was also really crowded. People decided short was better than pious. I stayed around the house after mass, no exploring. I waited for Sunday dinner, the best meal of the week. The house always had an amazing aroma when dinner was cooking. My favorite was a roast beef or as my grandmother jokingly called it a-roasta-beefa. I never thought it funny but smiled anyway. I still love mashed potatoes drowned in gravy. They were the Sunday dinner staple. The vegetables changed though peas appeared most often followed closely by corn, niblet corn. Sometimes we had brownies for dessert. My mother’s brownies were the best. She frosted them with chocolate frosting and sprinkled them with jimmies. I always liked the crusty corner.

My dance card is uke heavy this week. I have my usual practice and lesson and two concerts. We are playing the color book and practicing Motown for next week. I have no choice but to dress in outside clothes and leave the house. Goodbye cozies!

The morning got away from me. I woke early as there was a time window for my grocery delivery, 8 to 12. I hadn’t gone to bed until after 4 so when Alexa woke me at 8, I had to drag myself out of bed. My groceries came at 10. I hauled the bags to the kitchen and put everything away then I joined Nala on the couch and fell back to sleep with the fan cooling me. I slept wonderfully. When I finally woke up, I had coffee and a hermit cookie. I do love when my larder is full. Given the time, I thought I’d forego today but changed my mind so here I am.

Earlier I hear a lawn mower but now there is quiet. The day is sunny and hot at 82°, but the humidity makes it feel even hotter, muggy and a bit stifling. The breeze is every now and then but does little to mitigate the warmth. My den, where I am most of the time, is dark. The sun doesn’t hit here until the late afternoon. I am watching the walk video filmed in Accra, the capital of Ghana. I watch it often. I always wish I were there. It is pouring. Street ruts are muddy and filled with water. Heavy rain drops fall in a rhythm from the tin roofs onto the sidewalks. Some people are walking oblivious to the rain. Others wear colorful plastic rain coats. Aunties sit on the sidewalks and sell their goods. Most have an umbrella over them, and their wares are covered in see through plastic sheets. I never had a rain coat or an umbrella. I used to go to the market when the rain was soft. It was cooling.

I am in a hermit phase, not the cookies though I did have a couple today. I have nowhere I need to go. I am comfortable being barefoot and in my cozies. When I was a kid, this sort of Saturday would have been appalling, a wasted day. I always thought Saturdays were meant for adventure, for exploring. I usually went on my own, on my bike. My neighborhood friend never rode with me. She didn’t have a bike. If we roller skated though, we’d skate together. My neighborhood was a great roller skating spot. The sidewalk was hilly. The parking lot at the top of the hill was always empty. I loved the sound of the skates as they rumbled down the hill.

The dogs are sleeping. Nala is beside me. Henry is in the hall. They have the best lives.