Yesterday the smoke was brutal. The sun was orange in the sky and vision was very limited; I could not see the neighboring islands. Every breath was felt and I was constantly spitting because of the rancid taste in my mouth—spitting and coughing.
Sheba and I did our morning constitutional in Drumbeg Park and I had a minor thrill. A handsome and striking middle-aged man was bathing in h is underwear. Then he hopped out of the water, stripped down and got dressed. It was very early and so he probably did not expect visitors, but he took it all in his stride and was very friendly when we later crossed paths and Sheba bellowed at him.
I came home and felt I had to spend the day taking it easy indoors. Beth had recommended Sharp Objects that I accessed on the Internet and binge watched. It’s a taught tale; my goodness its dark, but I loved it—I’m an Amy Adams fan. (Except the heroine is a cutter and they show her back and it seems impossible that a person could scar words legibly all over her back.)
Today, as a result, I have to focus on Sheba. She woke in the night and pooped in the house. It’s something she hasn’t done since being housebroken so I’ve got to give her lots of exercise today. So that’s my day plan, plus meeting fellow Arts Council volunteer and fundraiser, Rhonda for a confab about the festival.
Tonight I go for champagne on the lawn at The Surf with Patsy and then we’ll have dinner there.
As I write this, the sun is rising. The wind last night cleared the air of smoke; the sky is blue again. Hooray!