raining

A soft light gray sky, gusty wind, and a little bit of rain. A good morning for sitting inside looking out. I am pleased to see the roses getting wet. I watered them about ten days ago, because they were very thirsty -- the bushes on the other side of the entryway were sun- and heat-blasted.

Lorraine Hunt Lieberson is singing. I am still tasting the pomelo I had for breakfast. Yesterday I went to the India Basin meeting and met Sean K sans bike gear. Also met Jill from India Basin, and Janet from the Dogpatch -- needless to say, their neighborhood issues are very different from ours. In the evening I crossed the street to have dinner with A+B. After B went to bed, A ended up telling me about her dysfunctional brother. She has some painful memories. I feel for her, and I am fascinated by the (incomplete) picture I now have of her. And, more selfishly, I felt lucky to have the family problems I have. Then I came home and made squash/coconut milk soup. I threw in some celery root, just for kicks.

I find it strange to remember that I was in a very different situation two years ago. It comes to mind because D emailed a week ago to ask me if I would take Farnsworth. I have been asking around, and I hope someone offers to take him, and that D doesn't flake out on the offer. I'm half-convinced that he was only using the cat as an excuse to contact me. I asked him to send a photo, partly because it's helpful to show it to people, and partly to see if he would follow through. He sent two of Farnsworth and one of some other cat. One of the photos was taken at least two years ago. What is his problem, I thought -- can't he just stick out his phone and press the camera button?

So anyway, instead of thanking me for my help (ha!), he ran through his routine -- he wants to be friends and doesn't know why I won't talk to him; he got me this house; he misses having coffee with me. I know I shouldn't be derisive, if only because none of this reflects well on my judgment.