204// Summer Comfort

It’s all downhill from here. The worst of the work is over and the most persistent of worries are evaporating. The hardest part of my big project is done, the rest is tweaking word choice and reformatting. I’ve done the hardest thing of all today too. I gave up control and reclaimed more of my time by delegating and sharing work and responsibilities.

I’m writing again this afternoon. I have a germ of and idea of a concept to chase, nothing unique or all that interesting, but personal as all my musings and attempts are. It helps to have a plan. It helps to have a place for ideas both formed and unformed. I’ve had time and mental space to spread out in because so much of what is cluttered and messy in my mind is laid down now in lists and notes, categories and hierarchies all searchable, sharable, connected, nested, and accessable anywhere.

Summer storms have returned to the evenings and I welcome the soothing rain, the excitement of thunder, and the break from the increasingly unbearable heat. The city stopped for a time to wait out the threat of real damage that’s only ever realized once or twice a season. This one was only postured and roared but left quickly slinking over the eastern plains.

I’ve eaten and finished what work I have the energy for. I’ve set up tomorrow’s list and prepared for tomorrow’s needs. I’d rather read than watch TV just now while I wait for the night to end, for my eyes to droop, for my mind to calm.

It’s hot enough still that the fans are whirring in all the rooms and dark enough now that the katydids and crickets are calling. It’s so loud I wonder how I’ll sleep though it. Then again, these summer sounds and smells have always been salve for my soul and the warm nights never cease to envelope me in a a kind of warmth and comfort that feels free, easy, welcoming, and kind.


Published by

Lisa Marie Blair

Painfully aware. Profoundly afraid. Perpetually falling in and out of love with humanity. She/They.

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