Himself: Applies for jobs and gets nothing back. This is all a new job world, and there is a gap for those who are not good at networking.
Herself: Doggedly putting the family photographs in order by date within each folder. Still. I’m hoping the worst is done now.
Reading: D. E. Stevenson’s three book series, “Vittoria Cottage, Music in the Hills,” and “Shoulder the Sky.” Nice comforting stuff to be reading on a rainy day with a cup of tea. Fighting my urge to eat all day too.
Balance: Reading off one’s own shelves.
Our city is flooded. At a time when the beach streets and intersections are flooded, this is my very own hidden ocean. The middle of the street is almost dry…which is nice. Locals know that there is a passing lane to the right, and they use it to pass cars turning into the condo complex…..rain or shine. In the rain, passing at speeds of 40 mph creates a massive tidal wave washing and drenching everything within sight. On the south side, the bridge remains lower than the drain. Hydroplaning is so exciting to watch when life becomes a mess of slipping and sliding into parked cars while your world is underwater.
Down the street three blocks is a major street that once was a small local hillside stream. On days like this, all the roads leading to this one drain their water here. Driving from the top to the bottom becomes an exercise in excitement on your very own, neighborhood water slide.
In Mission and Pacific beach, even locals who should know better have found their main street deeply flooded. Headlights shine up out of their watery graves into the lens of the news cameras. In the Midway district, not only will toilets not flush because they are below sea level, but you can’t leave home because of the flooding. Area’s that were once only home to summer camps are now filled with middle and upper income folks year round.
Worst of all are the conditions for the homeless. Our arid, desert world is not set up for rain under any condition, imagine how it seems for those who are living in the river beds, under freeway abutments, or just simply on the streets.
I asked my once homeless daughter how dry she was yesterday.
“Oh, you wouldn’t believe it, ma. The only parking place I could find was at the far end of the North forty. I got really drenched getting to class.”
Today I am first going swimming in the rain. Then I, who doesn’t often drive in the rain, am going to be the designated driver for Georgiana and I to the poetry workshop.
Life is always filled with surprises.