Sometimes there is little left to say. Nowhere to go. Nothing to do. Not much purpose. This rarely happens to me, but when it does I feel really empty. Unengaged. And mostly spent. It must be summer. Are these the doldrums?

The power chaser pols leave me discouraged and unmotivated. That’s really too bad, because I generally enjoy the discourse. When there is some. But this cycle’s bereft of anything worth the heavy breathing. There’s no exhilaration. Lots of accusations, a good deal of snarling, not much smiling, and no jubilation. The candidates hold no appeal for me. Anger for its own sake is not uplifting. Yeah. We have lots to be angry about. Coupled with a meddling current leader who doesn’t lead much, on his way out and not happy to be going.  So I’ve turned them all off. I rarely like that, but at present there is no useful dialogue to hold my interest. The air in my house will be cleaner for tuning them out.

On the brighter side, I get the bills paid, the weather, though killer hot, is  at least dry, and while I have felt better on other days, I’m upright and awake. On the right side of the grass. The pork is in the slow cooker and I have my clothes on. Let a slow day be good enough. If I tread lightly the headache might go away, and I already know there’s a nap in my future. What more could I ask?

That tomorrow will be better. That the noisemakers will get out of their own, er…heads. That I’ll sing with my choir as we rehearse a short program to deliver at Linwood. Decide what to make to take along.  Likely we’ll all sweat together. Well. As I said, it’s summer. The weight of heat is my enemy. Born in August, I think I must have been a cranky baby.

An added joy to the fave day worshipping at Linwood is a baptism in Lake Erie. One of my fave people will be dipped. Just being wherever she is, is always uplifting and fun. I should hire her to hang with me just to elevate my mood. It’s always so satisfying when the baptism is for an adult,  the subject aware of the meaning, having chosen the event.

I went to the Holy Land where many of us were baptized in the Jordan. Dozens of our own, baptized together in that holy place. So moving. Such joy. I had recently been baptized in Lake Erie, perhaps for the second time. No Mother left to ask. So I left nothing to chance by repeating the ritual. But would have been nice to do it along with my daughter. Poor planning on my part.

So I look forward to Sunday, this time without my cane for most of it. The politics will keep, as it always does.


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