Free and clear?
Not.
Even.
Close.
Big decisions in the process of being hammered out.
Repercussions?
Only time will tell.
Yesterday and today have been relatively quiet.
Working at the library both days until 4.00.
Upon our arrival at home, last evening, there was a message from Em that all three of my little chicks were at Mer's apartment, swimming as a means of escaping the heat.
And were wondering if there was, perhaps, going to be a meal prepared for their dining pleasure.
All three of them, not working?
Yes.
A meal was imminent.
After dinner, the kids cleaned up while Stephen and I prepared for our own evening festivities.
Get your minds out of the gutter.
Summer Convocation.
It occurred to me while getting ready that all the kids were together.
Perfect time for a photo of my trio of miscreants for my mother's digital picture frame.
Sounds simple, right?
Three adults, between the ages of 17 and 22?
No problem.
Except that they're my children.
One child, not a problem.
Two children, somewhat manageable.
Three children. . .took a lot of effort.
Especially as Em was not pleased with Mer and Keith at the time.
And was satisfied with what I was able to get.
Convocation. . .
Rather than have it in the courtyard at STU, which is always favourable, it was held at St. Dunstan's Church, downtown.
It was the unpredictable weather venue.
Rain was fore casted, but never showed.
But had we been outside, tempting the always fickle Mother Nature?
It would have been as if someone had turned on a gigantic faucet.
Unfortunately, St. Dunstan's isn't a huge church.
And what space was available was packed to the rafters.
Walking in during the faculty procession, we hit a wall of heat solely created from the jam-packedness of those family and friends who wanted to see their loved one cross the stage, a student at one end, a university graduate at the other.
Armed with only a program between us, Stephen and I took turns during the 90 minute ceremony fanning ourselves in an effort to stave off heat exhaustion.
A member of the platform party wasn't as fortunate, and fainted twice during convocation.
It really was that warm inside.
As we were leaving, again in the procession, we were hit with a blissful wall of cool air as we left the church sanctuary for the outside.
People were pouring out the church like ants from a flooded anthill.
I suggested to Stephen, as his robe zippered, that he could forgo pants.
He didn't seem to think this was a good idea.
But he reconsidered about halfway through the ceremony.
I know.
I can read his mind.
This morning was glorious.
As was the rest of the day.
Last week's oppressive heat and humidity, preparing to revisit us starting this coming Saturday was absent, leaving in its stead clear blue skies and temps hovering around 22 degrees Celsius.
One of those days where it was torture to be inside, no matter how riveting my reading material.
Cinematic Sociology.
Looking at issues like race, gender, classical theory through film.
I'm serious. . .riveting.
But today the fresh air, gentle breeze, cottony white clouds were calling me, calling me to leave my riveting reading and join them outside.
Plus the air conditioning in the library had actually numbed my feet.
That or my Birkenstocks were too tight.
At least this pair of Birks.
I have two pair.
Same color.
Different style.
This style, which I refer to as my "Mary Jane" Birks don't seem to be bother me at all. . .
The Arizona style have caused me blisters all over and I can't seem to get them adjusted to where they don't feel either too tight or too loose.
My feet have changed since I've lost weight.
At least that's my story.
I held on until 4.00 when Stephen descended from his office up the hill to collect me and my bags of stuff.
As soon as I walked through our front door, greeting my elated, jubilant, cavorting canines, I dashed (okay, walked as fast as I could upstairs) changed into outside clothes, grabbed by gardening tools and headed outside to take out my pent up energy on the audacious weeds that think it's appropriate to take up residence in my gardens.
Admittedly, the gardens have been neglected of late.
Too hot temps do not facilitate my going outside to much of anything beyond taking the dogs out.
I've always abhorred heat and humidity.
Granted, 80+ pounds lighter has made this summer far more tolerable than any other summer in my immediate past.
I don't wake up feeling that the only suitable way to pass the day is to surround myself with fans while sitting at my computer not moving except to pass my fingers over the keyboard.
And even that was too much effort.
Meaning this summer's heat has been much easier to bear when not carrying around the weight equivalent of Tikka or Frankie.
Right, suffering gardens, me fueled with the desire to get outside as quickly as possible.
Off I went, gloves on, ready to haul out the offensive weeds with a vehemence usually reserved for people who really, really piss me off.
And the result of my efforts?
Liberated hens and chicks.
Beaming bee balm.
And an overflowing wheelbarrow of weeds.
Along with a very sore backside and leg muscles.
All for the cause.
The cause?
A happy, content Stephen.
As I write, Em is getting ready for a late movie.
With me.
But not of my choice.
Bridesmaids.
I hold out no hope that I'll be pleasantly surprised twice in one week with a movie I thought would be horrific that turned out to be quite funny.
And the next book on the list of must reads?
An edited collection of essays about Dexter.
Bridesmaids is far more frightening I'm willing to bet.
Title Lyric: Hot in Here by Nelly
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