Mornings
It's that time of the year where for a brief few hours the windows can remain open. It's nice sipping coffee outside with the sound of birds instead of neighbors air conditioners humming. And breathe.
It's that time of the year where for a brief few hours the windows can remain open. It's nice sipping coffee outside with the sound of birds instead of neighbors air conditioners humming. And breathe.
This rolled in late afternoon. Â The sky was completely black 20 mins later. Â So what to do but sip some red wine and look to the heavens to see how it unfolds.
No rain or thunder this time.
For a few days I decided to consume less Twitter. And you know what, it wasn't bad. Life went on. Twitter "the experience" hadn't felt quite right for months. Taking a break for a few days and coming back to it I immediately knew what the problem was. Political Twitter had become exhausting.
I'll admit I've officially reached peak Trump fatigue. I don't want to wade through all the outrage retweets. I just don't want to read about it anymore full stop. Any change you make in your life should be for the positive and make you happy. And so, I took a hatchet to political Twitter and unfollowed the entire echo chamber.
What remains are all the things I enjoy reading. And that's what it should be about anyway.
So why don't you give blood, you didn't ask. I'll tell you.
It's not that I don't want to. I'd love to be able to donate and think it's one of the easiest ways to give a teeny something back. They just don't think I'm a suitable candidate.
I dunno somethin' somethin' Cows, England, madness. Red Cross Eligibility:
In some parts of the world, cattle can get an infectious, fatal brain disease called Mad Cow Disease. In these same locations, humans have started to get a new disease called variant Creutzfeld-Jacob Disease (vCJD) which is also a fatal brain disease. Scientists believe that vCJD is Mad Cow Disease that has somehow transferred to humans, possibly through the food chain.
And so:
You are not eligible to donate if: From January 1, 1980, through December 31, 1996, you spent (visited or lived) a cumulative time of 3 months or more, in the United Kingdom (UK).
Bummer.
Our house is "in the desert" and quite the drive out of Phoenix. At night you're likely to see a number of things flying by.
Firstly bats. They won't harm you and to be honest look kinda cool flying through the air as you catch glimpse of them. Also Owls. Now these guys come and go as they please. Last night was the first time I saw (or even heard) one this year. Impressive wingspan.
But then there are the insects. Some of them I swear are just aliens sent here for god knows what. They're, er, big and have armor. Also they have armor. And they don't die.
How's your evening?
I'm sipping a Voodoo Ranger Juicy Haze IPA with Kraftwerk's Computer World album playing in the background. Planning our drive up north tomorrow with maps and hotels and clothes and packing and shoes and stuff.
It will be nice to get out of the heat for a long weekend. Life is pretty grand.
Summer is here in full force. Phoenicians moan about how it "didn't feel this hot last year" (it did) and how "my AC is on more" (it isn't). It's like we've never lived here before and it's a surprise. I do always forget that you can't go out barefoot on your drive at 3:00pm. Picture that lizard on the sand lifting his feet up. Except a bloke in his forties yelling "shit shit" as he does some sorta hop run thing back to the front door.
It's a bright sunny morning in the desert. I'm sitting on the back porch sipping my coffee watching a couple birds fight over something or other. The gentle hum of someone's A/C unit in the distance.
There's a full day ahead. High School, email, meetings, freeways. But for right now in this moment just exhale.