Today is cloudy and a bit hot at 78˚, the high for the day. Tomorrow it will be rainy so I guess today is a Sort of dress rehearsal with humidity and clouds, but no rain. I did the dump run yesterday. The dump was so crowded I had to ride around twice to get a spot at the recycle bins. My trunk was filled with heavy, spent litter bags. They had to be dragged then hefted and thrown over the sides of the green, metal bin. Sometimes, almost involuntarily, I grunted at the weight of the bags as I threw them. It wasn’t pretty.

Today will be less exciting than yesterday. I have uke practice tonight for an hour. That’s it, my only commitment to the day, my only reason to have to get dressed. Today would have been a perfect sloth day, a day dedicated to wearing cozies, to doing no work and to lazing the day away.

I remember weather days like this when I was a kid, totally cloudy days. The playground was open at nine but not in the rain so because we spent day at the playground doing crafts, playing games like checkers and softball, our mantra, actually our nursery rhyme, for the day was rain, rain, go away, which now, in hindsight, sort of makes no sense. It wasn’t raining, but anyway, on a cloudy day we hoped for just clouds, a reprieve from the sun.

Whenever we went to the beach, my face got sunburned over the tan. I had to wear a tee shirt so my back and shoulders wouldn’t get burnt. My mother always packed Tee Shirts, and by afternoon, we were all wearing tee shirts. My mother had reached the sun limit. I didn’t mind.

I went out on the deck to retrieve something Nala had stolen from the kitchen. It was a Paper Towel which Nala didn’t seem to like. It was left mostly intact. I looked over the bannister and saw a paper plate which must have been with paper towel. It had been flattened. I remembered I had pizza on that plate and had left it on the counter in case I wanted another piece of pizza. I don’t remember it going missing. I must have moved on to something else.

Last night the two dogs were driving me crazy. They were chasing each other around the house from room to room, and they’d stop on the couch to eat each other’s faces low growling all the time, all in fun. I kept throwing them off the couch, and they kept coming back. Finally, I used the magic word, dinner. They both stopped, looked attentive and ran to the kitchen. All of a sudden, I had a memory flash. I remembered our magic word was supper, and we pretty much had the same reaction to our word. That’s sort of interesting in an odd sort of way.