~Written July 22~

The weather blew up the other day, the humidity/heat'd been stiffling.

It rocked and rolled, great downpour, tremendous thunder, M & M plus little son D and I out in the street, then in the gutters where the water was ankledeep running so fast and warm. We stayed out in it til the temp dropped and we got cold...the kitchen garden completely flooded over. Then we got dried and warmed...and 3 hours later it was hot and humid again and the sidewalks were drying nicely.

A wild time, it felt like a batism.

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The cousins are coming out in droves to help. I am so lucky that my Aunties on both sides had all these great daughters! The daughters outnumber the sons quite a bit, but also in presence of person they're really something. And of course, beautiful and interesting so it's all good, you see.

Lindsey (the fox in her late 50's) comes over w/ meals and groceries (from her and Anne), and Ginger (anesthetist) been visiting Dylan, and Harriet's people are in touch (plus we go to see them soon and boy do I need that); and Mary K's bringing her little dog over next week and watching the little ones so I can leave for awhile & try to remember I still am a person; and Sue's on my little list to call. Plus friends, and we'll just rotate!

It's so nice to TALK to them! My little family...and they're all so tiny, well, most of them. But we're Nothern European, not Hmong! Except Grandma (the one who just passed in Dec) was so tall - til she shrunk from old age. Cousin John's blue-black African lady STILL reminds me of Grandma, I mean physically. Grandma really liked her, too.

The meal Lindsey brought was a hotdish Grandma used to make.

I suppose one of these years I should just sit down and pen a book about them all.

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Dylan's sick. I am sad. So sad for him. Kidneys reacting to amt of meds...it should be fine I mutter like a zombie and on paper it SHOULD be fine. Should...it's hard, this should we keep hearing. Miserere, Domine! (Dylan hates it when I spontaneously break out in Latin: Mom, that's a sign of possession! Oh, save it, son, CONTEXT, CONTEXT! Everyone has a Mother tongue - I just happened to have adopted one)

How much sad can there be? Tired doesn't help, I am aware of this. It's just...we're on some kind of train or ride here, Dylan most of all...trying to remember when a problem looms so large, or like the animal struggling to free itself from a trap, it is true that stopping the struggle, look about one, solution can then come.

I just want that ugly cartoon guy to sweep us off the railroad tracks...a simple, instant, total rescue.