Plan traditional Halloween festivities for October 31. Festivities include turning off porch and interior lights, putting cars away, unplugging phone, and sitting on sofa eating Halloween candy ourselves in darkened house. Dear Sugar has tendency to bark at slightest sound, but remain hopeful that small mendicants knocking at front door will think she is home alone.
Maternal enforcement of covered costumes during one night of year when they may be worn on street strikes fear in every child’s heart. However, weather continues warm. Halloween in Nevada ensures proper exposure of chosen spooky ensemble.
(Clarion tones of mother raised in exhortations to Put on Sweater as it is Cold Out remain in memory long after youth has passed).
Wrote entire entry for Diary during wakeful hour last night before sleep overtook me. Could not remember single word of it in the morning, because dear Sugar, who had climbed up next to me on pillow, kicked me in the ear.
(Mem: Learn to sleep with one eye open, or wear ear muffs.)
Related scenario of Wakeful Brain to Don next evening, who suggested I keep recorder next to bed. Queried whether this might not interfere with his sleep? Debate ensued, not sure how, centering on Differences Between Men and Women and the number of questions each asks when listening to stories told by the other. (Satisfactory conclusion to summit not reached.) Recorder remains ensconced in undisclosed location, as I have forgotten where I put it.
(Query: Are not convoluted discussions, especially those bearing on Differences Between the Sexes, better left for daytime?)
Sit on front porch in rocking chair to enjoy fine weather. Sugar runs back and forth between neighboring dogs behind fences, who display envy of her freedom by barking ferociously. Police car pulls up in front of house, and thought occurs that perhaps I am supposed to be doing something other than sitting in rocking chair?
(Sight of law enforcement, school principal, and other figures of authority, still has power to make me wonder if I am doing Anything Wrong.)
Police officer talks at length with man who appears to be homeless. Sugar walks over to investigate, and Officer holds arm straight out to side with palm facing up in front of Sugar, but does not turn his head in her direction. Sugar is clearly at a loss, as chronic lack of vehicular traffic inside our house has precluded the use of this hand signal, and it is unfamiliar to her. Call her over before she is shot for being Menace to Society.
Despite proximity to incident, I fail to arrive at conclusion as to what It Is About. Homeless Citizen is taken away in police car, and shopping cart is left behind. Cart appears to be almost empty, and fears of theft of man’s belongings are allayed. Homeless man overheard to say He has no Address, so am left wondering if police think it alright to drop him off Anywhere?
(Query: Is homeless man perhaps powerful ringleader of Shopping Cart Theft Gang? If not, concerns arise as to best use of Taxpayer Money as it pertains to police.)
Neighborhood pool again closes due to broken heat coil. Other pools are unsatisfactory, with very deep swim lanes. Despite swimming in broad daylight, and wearing goggles rendering entire pool in clear sight, have vague fears of denizens with sharp teeth creeping up on me.
(NB: Water Denizens of deep probably do not creep, unless they are wearing sneakers).
Shallow lane in new pool inhabited by five elderly friends who discuss aneurysms, blood clots, and unexpected trips in ambulances, while moving at pace of Iceberg. Weave in and out, trying not to rock them, but fear they are bobbing in my wake like smaller icebergs. While driving home, I pass woman in her seventies on Vespa, wearing pink helmet, pink shirt, and little pink sandals. (Is she perhaps Pinkie Tuscadero, now no doubt, a grandmother?)
Reflect once more that I fall somewhere between Old, Eccentric, and Adorable, and Young, Wild, and Fascinating. That this has been my situation no matter what age I am currently in, remains a mystery. (Decide I would look well on scooter wearing Pink Helmet.)
Use of strange pool coincides with broken hand paddle, and busted headband for waterproof radio. Even though I am aware that none of this is new pool’s fault, I continue to place blame for all squarely on its shoulders.
(Mem: Would not like to think of self as inflexible and Opposed to Change. Must watch closely for tendency, although am not necessarily disposed to do anything about it.)
Diary Of A Provincial Sophisticate 