Hi. Hello from
It's too hot. It's not a dry heat when it's this hot. Things sweat. It's gross. I get home and my legs are gritty from salty sweat. If I have parking lot duty I can feel a trail of sweat start at the nape of my neck, go down my back, down my leg, and drip on my sandal. TMI? Maybe.
Here's a less sweaty story.
Before school started I was doing some dishes. Two of my favorite white dishes were stuck together. When I picked them up, they magically fell apart and then, of course, they broke. The top one fell on the bottom one. They broke each other. I was devastated.
Jeremiah came home all excited because I had done the dishes but then I pointed out the horrific site of the accident and he had the decency to pretend that he was upset, too. Or maybe I just imagined that. Grief is tricky sometimes.
I thought that the dishes could live on and be repurposed. Not by me, though. It would have been too hard. So I took them to work and gave them to the art teacher, who couldn't contain her glee as she announced that "They'll be perfect for mosaics! Or, I mean, I'm sorry they broke.".
|I never loved you dishes anyway. You are dead to me.|