Happy Almost Summer Solstice! (It's Weds. June 23, 9:57 a.m. Central.) I'm going to watch Smiles of a Summer Night (free on utube).
I woke up feeling energetic yesterday, after two weeks of dragging around--that return of energy is the best.
This year I've been extra aware that one day, easy health won't return... I'm scared and sad about that, and I extra enjoy my good health while it's here!
BELOW: Oneshoe and Spike practiced for a Welcome Solstice Parade this morning. They report, "There is a distinct lack of musical instruments for dolls in this house." (Must make some before Wednesday.)
Behind them, the boulevard wheat springeth green... Doesn't wheat need water? I guess the city planted a drought-resistant variety. We are dry, dry, dry.
And, last week, smoky! The sky was foggy yellow from the Canadian wildfires.
This, below, wasn't even the worst of it--the AQI got up in the 220s--worst air in the country that day.
We were lucky though, with only 1 day of thick smoke (so far). I'm glad I was wearing a face mask anyway, for my cough and to protect against dust at work.
I was on a roll of complaining about work recently. I went back and edited the posts where I went on and on about it. It was good to write it out, but I don't want it lingering like Bad Air.
Yesterday I checked in with newish (3 months) coworker mattdamon, after I complained about something--was I being too negative?
"I really love this place, I hope I express that too."
"No, I'm glad you speak up," he said. "It makes me know I'm not crazy. I'd say this place has systemic problems... but we don't even have a system!"
I laughed. "Yeah, last year I read the book Five Dysfunctions of a Team. We have all five dysfunctions, but we don't have a team."
But MY team--me!--has been working well. Only one manager was working yesterday--Ass't Man--so with that and the return of energy, I felt free to futz and faff for my whole shift.
I filled a bucket with hot water and a capful of mango-scented Fabuloso and washed down my display shelves.
(A volunteer who is a retired doctor complains about the chemical cleaners we buy--"Why don't we use something nontoxic?"--but my coworkers love Fabuloso--they say it smells clean. As problems with the store goes, this one is so minor, I don't even care.)
The colorful carpet I'd put down a few weeks ago has spots of grunge on it, so after washing the shelves, I got on my knees and scrubbed the spots. Without realizing it, I was also singing along to the R&B radio we play--a customer commented on how much fun I was having.
My City
Later that day, a young Native man asked me if we had a section of books about Native concerns.
We don't, I said, because those books always sell as fast as I put them out, so there's never enough to keep a section stocked. I pointed him to the History section, but said I didn't think there were any in stock...
While he looked there (I was right), I browsed the Fiction section and found Louise Erdrich's first book, Love Medicine, and Sherman Alexie's Lone Ranger and Tonto Fistfight in Heaven--with the short story that was made into Smoke Signals--a favorite movie of mine.
The young man was surprised--he didn't know about either author (both Native). He thanked me and left with both books.
Louise Erdrich founded the indie Birchbark Books & Native Arts (good website). Erdrich has said in the past that the store makes no profit--does it even break even?--and she runs it for the sake of supporting BOOKS.
A local coffee roaster delivers their beans (organic) by bike. Yesterday one of their bike couriers came up on me biking to work, going so fast I thought it was an e-bike, but as they passed--nope, it was a young biker pedaling full speed.
By the time I got my camera out, they were almost out of sight, but here, I magnified them with their low-slung red delivery cart:
BELOW: Here's another nice thing I bike past--a homemade shrine to a dead guy--I don't know his story--but it includes a doll house that people leave things in.
Maybe one day I will make a Protector for it...
The other day near this altar, I saw an older Native woman signing (holding a sign at the side of the road asking for money). I regularly give people cash or food––bought a guy a sandwich at Subway this week––but I don't usually stop my bike to do it.
But for women with gray hair, I will go out of my way.
As I biked nearer, she started to walk away across a parking lot. I called out to her, "Hey, hey there!", and she turned and came back.
I took my bike helmet off to show her my gray hair as I gave her ten bucks--"We have the same hair!"
She smiled and reached out to touch my shoulder, "Thank you for calling me back."
Her hand was warm, and she held my shoulder for a moment.
