Still in Dallas. Just saw a garbage bag go floating down the street. My daughter, whose house this is, and who is in upstate New York right now at an in-law family funeral, assures me that this kind of thing is normal, but I dunno. There's a flash-flood warning in effect, with words like life-threatening, so I think I'll stay put.
Drinking tea, listening to the dogs barking. It's gonna be a long, quiet day.
Wearing again:
I had planned to get another wear out of my Camellia for the drive back to Memphis, but then when it turned out to be raining, I thought that that was not a good plan from the dye-situation standpoint. So it's Sierra again, which is a good cozy choice for a long wet day even if --- as it appears --- I'm not going anywhere.
I did get up and wash my hair this morning, more for something to do, and to wake myself up, than anything else. I've been co-washing again with cheapo V05 --- hardly no-waste, and not exactly organic or sustainable or small-business-supporting, but I like the results. They have this new "Detox" line of shampoo and conditioner, which I'm not sure is that different from any other of their flavors, except that this one appears not to have hydrolized collagen, for whatever that's worth. Anyway, it is very lightweight, which I like. My hair and scalp feel clean after using it, not all built-up with gunk, but also moisturized. I've always gotten nice curl/wave results with this bargain approach, even when --- as today --- I haven't used gel or made any real styling attempts. My hair is still damp, but feels good.
Here's me looking out at the rain.
Gonna try to rustle up some food and make myself comfy for the duration.
ALSO: I am glad I packed the kind of travel capsule that I can spin out indefinitely if need be. Three dresses and a cardigan, and I've got what I need for unscheduled extra days away from home. I'm comfortable, clean, presentable --- and I can keep on in this holding pattern for as long as I need to.
MUCH LATER:
The sun is out, I've talked a kid down from a (relatively minor) administrative crisis, and had a Zoom meeting in which the other person remarked that a certain poet of the previous century (I actually forget which poet now; maybe Alfred Noyes) looked "like somebody who can't decide whether he wants to grow up to be a German philosopher or a suicide bomber."