It was too beautiful this morning to stay indoors, too beautiful to just run errands, so I took a 7 AM drive through City Park this morning. Already people were up biking, jogging, walking, playing soccer and barbecuing in the park. Drove past the empty pedestal where once sat Beauregard and his horse and it’s awful. It’s really awful. And though alone, couldn’t keep my thoughts to myself: “Look at what that moron has done!” But my drive was lovely, drove up and then down Harrison Avenue, a street I have always loved, where St. Dominic’s Church and for the first time it occurred to me that Lakeview Veterinary, where little Earl went to his reward, is across the street from St. Dom’s, but set back a little behind a building. I took that as a comforting sign. Oh, the opera I sang to that poor poochie driving in the car that made him leap around the seats. Fighting the impulse again to go adopt a dog.
Ah, bliss. First swim of the almost-summer. Had to get a new swimsuit, it’s a black tankini, because I didn’t realize I had left iron on low and when I got out my jazzy turquoise tankini, didn’t realize I left it so close to the iron that I had put on a table to cool, and well, to get to the point, Uncle Archie, I melted half of the jazzy blue bottoms. I must have said Bummer fifty times. The pool was sparkling clean, such a pretty pool area: Confederate (gasp, are they going to make them change the name) jasmine twining near an coral hibiscus, the oaks and the palm trees. Started as always with the breast stroke (not to save my hair, but because I swim with my glasses on, blind otherwise) and got winded at first, but I pressed through and this passed. I was afraid I wouldn’t make my usual hour but do you know, I was in the water moving nonstop for an hour and a half. It felt wonderful, water was stinging cold with I first got in, and stayed cool the entire time. I love to swim. (A wasp was just tapping outside the window of the Ernest Hemingway room. Hope there isn’t a nest–I have to walk past there every day.) We’ve had so much rain the past two weeks, you should see my flowers and herbs! Some of the blooms on the periwinkles seem almost as big as my fist. Ralph, the Atomic Pumpkin, is loaded with fuchsia flowers again. Coming in from the pool this morning, I saw all the colors of the day with the strong vision of childhood. It’s a Joliet Street kind of morning, when that street, on a summer morning, was full of the honeyed New Orleans sun, lined with fuchsia crape myrtle trees and everyone had a garden, including the Frois family, and the church bells of Incarnate Word would toll the Angelus at 6AM. And noon. And 6PM.
Well, I’m thinking it’s summer, and there’s bound to be a new Sara Booth Delaney mystery coming out soon, and another Ruth Galloway. ‘Twill be good to catch up with Cathbad, Nelson, Ruth and little Katie. Wonder what pranks Sara Booth and Tinkie will play on someone for revenge after hurting an animal, girls after my own heart, both of them.
While in the pool, various thoughts drifted through mine mind. I thought of the picture of that blue tick puppy I posted here years ago and suddenly you and I were raising him and since he was as blue as ink I though of calling him, “Schaeffer,” and then I said, “Mountblanc.” Here, Mountblanc. But you would have to say it the French way, not mount blank, but mon blon. Then I said,nah, but it does kind of have a ring for that hound, does it not?
The houseis becoming an almost, quelle nightmare,but this is not a day to waste on work. Today I will take the vow to be worthless and just enjoy the day.