It has cooled of from 105 all the way down to 98. I guess I have to acknowledge that we have reached summer. California is getting nervous, hoping to avoid the fires that destroyed so much last year. Pacific Gas & Electric is actually talking about turning off power to people in dangerous areas for as much as 4 days. I'm trying to decide how we would survive four days without electricity. I hope it doesn't come to that.
I have enough electric gadgets and ways to turn them on without plugging them in, but not for four days. We have flashlights and candles.
We have a gas stove and a French press, so we would still have coffee, for example.
We could drive to another town and spend the day in a mall or at a movie if the house got to be an oven. But I don't know what we'd do about things in the refrigerator or freezer. It would be a good excuse to eat meals out (every situation has a silver lining). This is what happens when first world people are faced with possible third world problems. At least the toilets would still flush.
But looking on the bright side, four days with no way to hear Trump. Doesn't sound too bad.
The problem with the heat, even in an air conditioned house, is that just knowing how hot it is outside is is so enervating (and this is a dry heat, the good kind) -- I simply have absolutely no energy whatsoever. As soon as I wake up from a nap, I am looking forward to my next one. Talk about being a lazy slug. Fortunately, Ned didn't come today, so I had no sorting of anything to do.
Lately I seem to be getting a "normal" amount of sleep, in a not normal way. I start out on the couch and sleep almost exactly 3 hours, then go to the recliner and am awake for 2-3 hours, and then fall back asleep for another 3-4 hours....and then there is the mid-afternoon nap.
I mention this because I have started watching the new Netflix series of Tales of the City, one or two episodes until I feel sleepy, and then go right back to sleep.
This morning I woke up to the background noise of Live with Kelly and Ryan. Ryan Seacrest was interviewing the Jonas Brothers and they were discussing "comfort objects" they had as children.
I was a thumb sucker. I don't know how long I sucked my thumb but apparently I sucked it so hard the doctor felt I was in danger of developing an infection, so every day I would stand on the toilet seat, to make me taller, and soak my thumb in some vile tasting solution. After I had soaked the thumb, they put a wire cage-like thing over the thumb.
I don't know that it really worked. I developed a taste for the wet metal and when they didn't put that on me, I would lick and lick and lick until I finally got rid of all the bad taste of whatever I was soaking my thumb in. I wonder what they ever did to finally break me of sucking my thumb.
Tom and David never had comfort objects, and never sucked anything either, but Jeri sucked her two middle fingers and Ned and Paul each sucked their thumbs, though not with the determination that I had as a kid.
But the three older kids each had their own "comfort object." For Jeri it was a frilly satiny-feeling comforter with a kind of lace trim. We carried that with us everywhere. She had to have the lacy corner stuffed in her nose when she went to sleep.
Ned had a thermal blanket to which he was addicted. It got so old and ratty that the entire center section of it fell out and he then only had the satin binding, which tired itself in knots with threads of the thermal part hanging off of it We lost it one time and searched everywhere for it, while Ned cried and cried. Finally, we mentioned it to our neighbor, who said he found something like that on his lawn. He checked his trash and there it was...the precious blanket. I can't imagine how he would think of something so "sacred" as trash!
The most notable thing about that blanket, though, is that 51 year old Ned still has it in the pocket of one of his jackets.
By the time Paul came along, I was determined we were not going to have the blanket problem, so I never gave him the same blanket every night. I had three blankets and I rotated them. And when Char was babysitting him and having a difficult time calming him down, a cut up swaths of an old dress of mine, that smelled like me, and that made him happy and we didn't have to bring a big blanket with us.
HOWEVER, that plan backfired on me and he reached an age where in order to go to sleep anywhere, he had to have all three blankets AND all of the swatches from my dress! Parents are never smarter than their kids.