Sitting Here Sweating

It’s an exceedingly quiet Sunday afternoon here, aside from the unwelcome hum of cicadas outside. I always associate their mating calls with the darkest, hottest days of summer. There aren’t too many out yet, but the chorus will grow deafening in the next few weeks, after which the sidewalks will be littered with dead and dying cicadeas.

The other reason it’s quiet is because Ray is out like a light, and Chieko is at the hospital. It would seem she has again broken her foot in the most mundane of ways. Last time she fell UP the stairs; this morning she got to the top of the stairs and booted the laundry basket she had left there last night. She is being pretty hard on herself about it, but these things happen. Hopefully it’s only sprained and will heal quickly since she is pretty hobbled, and has classrooms spread out all over campus that she has to get to.

Yesterday afternoon I went fishing with two of my neighbors. I went with them a few weeks ago in the morning. Morning is definitely the better time to go. I can’t recall ever sweating more just standing in one place than I did yesterday. None of us caught any fish, but it was peaceful and the sunset cast a beautiful light on the towering storm clouds that had formed over the mountains as the afternoon heated up.

When I went fishing with these guys last time it was a bit embarrassing. The coastline is basically paved over or covered in jetties made up of concrete tetrapod/jack structures, and the custom is to clamber out onto these things and fish from there. I’m not afraid of heights at all, but these tetrapods freak me out. I get paralyzed with fear of falling into the voids between them, and there’s a fair amount of hopping around from place to place involved in navigating one’s self out to a proper fishing position.

So I make it onto the first tetrapod, arms full of fishing gear and big balance-skewing backpack on, and that’s it. My neighbors scamper away at alarming speed as if it’s the most natural thing in the world, and I can’t move. One of my neighbors comes back and relieves me of my armload of fishing rods, but it makes no difference. It was fruitless, we had to move to solid ground. I felt like a huge pussy, but I couldn’t help it.

Yesterday, I eventually grew more interested in taking pictures of the scenery than repeatedly tossing my lure into the water and not getting any action.

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Hints of Cape Cod in those last few pictures.

The next few weeks have been a long time coming — 4 day week this week, 4 day weekend, 4 day week next week. After that another week of real classes before things start wrapping up and summer vacation will be upon us. I try not to start looking towards ¬†vacation while it’s too far away, but I think we’re within range enough that I can start obsessing about it.

That’s about it from here. Ray will probably be waking up soon, and I should hear from Chieko shortly as well regarding her foot. I think I have time to squeeze in one more homebrew before things start picking up again. Until next time…

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2 thoughts on “Sitting Here Sweating

  1. water and sky, endlessly fascinating. I have to figure out somewhere I can retire to (eventually), where I can sit and watch the water at all hours. Did you show a photo of your nemesis last time, the jacks? I sympathize, being wimpy about heights. I was brave enough to walk across the Brooklyn Bridge a few weeks ago, but had to hold onto Ray a lot (that is, big Ray).

    1. perhaps you need a boat patty…i didn’t put any pictures of the jacks last time but will take some in the future…oddly, i have no problem with heights in general, there’s just something about the jacks that freaks me out…i think the fear of falling down between them…

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