Zinnias in the sun, one of the glories of summertime. If we have to have heat, at least we can have these bursts of beauty with it. And today, we definitely have heat: projected high of 96F.
Already today I've walked the dog and written a couple thousand words of fiction --- though really this big surge of progress on a particular project is owing to the fact that the project exists in multiple earlier drafts, written over the last 15 years, and that there are sections of the current draft that can be filled in with passages from older drafts, which I then tweak to work with the new iteration of the story. This is a project I would like to see through, somehow. It's been on my mind since my 20th wedding anniversary, in 2010, spent at the Gideon Ridge Inn outside Blowing Rock. The house and the surrounding landscape, as they were at the time, sparked a story that has not left me alone in all the intervening years, though what the story actually is has been slow in coming to me.
About five years ago, I finished a whole draft, but the arc of the narrative didn't really satisfy me: too many questions still about how the world of the story worked, and what was at stake in it. Gradually some of those blanks have begun filling themselves in in my imagination, and I've returned to it in my usual off-and-on fashion, to try to move it forward. This Norse literature course I'm doing has been helpful, as I had hoped it would be --- not that I want to imitate Tolkien and Lewis in their engagement with that body of literature, but it does suggest imagery and narrative moves that I might not have thought of otherwise, that dovetail rather serendipitously with what I had already written.
So, I worked on that this morning, transferring a long sequence of events in the story to their new setting, where they work but are pointing to something other than what they pointed to before. Now I need to turn to this essay I had hoped to finish at the weekend and didn't.
Wearing today:
*Secondhand Not Perfect Linen Smock dress (S/M) in Dark Blue-Gray, bought December 2023, last worn June 24. Wears in 2025: 12
*Secondhand Xero Z-Trek sandals, year 1 of wear
Did I mention that it's hot? The only possible response: hair off my neck (I might put it all the way up later), clothing that touches my skin as little as possible. Once again this dress is my summer comfort dress. It has a ways to go before it unhorses my Iris Blue Sierra as most-worn dress in 2025, but it may well catch up significantly before the year is out. Serendipitously, I just today received in my email this linen-care guide from Not Perfect Linen, which others might find useful, whether you own any NPL clothing or not. I'm interested to see that they recommend dry cleaning as the way to extend the life of your garment --- I doubt I'm going to do that, to be honest. I don't like dry-cleaning chemicals, for one thing, and for another, it's just easier, when I need to, to hand-wash and hang my dresses. I don't think I do this so often that they're really going to be destroyed, and I do actually like the softening that occurs with washing. As they note, nothing lasts forever, and I'm going to do whatever enables me to wear and enjoy my clothing while it does last. (This includes not ironing, because . . . do I iron? Not if I can help it).
Anyway, I'm as cool today as I can possibly be, which is, you know, not that cool. Already I begin to pine for the turn into fall. July is a tough month, hot and dry with no end in sight (not to mention fireworks). Other than the Viking's birthday, nine days from now, it's a month of not much happening that I care about, a month to get through --- aside from the substantial fact that the Viking was born in July, it's my least favorite month. August is hot and dry, but it begins to bring with it that whiff of change. The school year begins. Life picks up with some purpose.
But July? Eh. I am glad we're going out of town for ten days of it. Usually we travel in June, but I think this is the better decision. You take a trip in June, and you come back, and there are still miles of summer to plod through. In mid-July, you come back and it's almost August, almost time for things to change. The summer's back is broken.
It's only been in recent years that I have a) realized and b) admitted to myself that I really don't like summer. As a child, of course, I loved it: no school. As a teenager, I spent my days at the horse barn with my friends, and the nights --- especially once I could drive --- seemed magical, with their warm breath and the car windows down. I had a lot of fun in the summer, all the way through college. And significantly, I never even noticed the heat. It bothered me not one jot. Now, though . . . while I like to be warm, I do not like to be this hot. I do not like being eaten by mosquitoes every time I go outside. I do not like being continually sweaty. I do not like the depression that seems to descend on me every year with the heavy air. I do not like it, Sam I Am. I do not like any of it at all.
It will pass. And, you know, pick up your cross and all that. People are suffering in far more real ways, and it seems a little stupid to complain about the heat when I have the gift of my life. I am in a position to offer this little discomfort up without too much trouble, so there's my solution. And it is, truly, the ONLY thing I can do for the state of the world.
Anyway. I am looking forward to the upcoming trip. My new rain shell arrived yesterday and is exactly what I wanted: more lightweight than my Gore-Tex jacket (but a good wind shell, which will keep me warm over layers if I need it), packs down small in its sack, nice dark royal blue that will go with my whole world. I can't find the stuff sack for my rain pants, but they roll up very small, too, and fit neatly in a little zippered pouch in my pack, leaving me ample room for other things.
Today I washed out my Maggie dress to take as a nightgown, though I could in a pinch wear her as a dress during the day. I don't think I'd need to, but you never know. It's nice to have that flexibility. I am planning to take four dresses qua dresses, and I might add a fifth, my Audrey, which is a good travel dress and would be a solid choice for Sunday Mass, wherever we are. I know there are people who like to take one dress and a bunch of accessories, but I tend the other way, toward more dresses, fewer accessories. Depending on pack space, though, I might take three choices of top layer: a cardigan, a pullover, and a button shirt OR second cardigan. Otherwise, two top layers, pullover and cardigan.
Enough of that, though. I have miles to go before I get on that plane.