Early days of 4th grade for the boy coincide with consecutive days of triple digit heat for valley dwellers, a box turtle possibly on a hunger strike because I won’t put her in her outdoor arena in triple digit heat, melted-looking toadstools popping up around the base of our pop-up outdoor swimming pool, fungi I believe our dog has licked or eaten because suddenly poop abounds, inside house, outside, in reception room of vet’s office, all manner of bugs landing in pop-up pool, mostly–sadly–bees, although I watched a wasp land on the surface, remain for 4 seconds (I counted) then wing-activate and zoom safely away (wasps are the new dragon-fly? Removed a dead dragon fly from pool, rainbow wings soggy, long body done, so…)

In this heat, I’ve sent love & money & more love & money and this will continue until floods are tiny puddles.

Fire in La Tuna Cyn eating its way over brittle terrain towards suburban Burbank neighborhoods, ash on our cars, ash on the pop-up pool’s cover, ash in the turtle’s outdoor arena, ash smearing my windshield because my wipers suck–here, changing windshield wipers never makes the To Do list. Triple digits, fire and now a mugginess/humidity-soup pushed to us from a storm torturing Baja. Triple digits predicted today. The hottest summer since we moved to the valley 7 years ago. Loved those glorious rains last Fall, but how quickly their good was eaten by multiple heatwaves tucked into all subsequent months, to this month’s 109, 111, 116, etc.

4th grade has not included playing outdoors at lunchtime. Will be forcing self to open the next water and power bill. One day, will the turtle forgive me?

I like to watch video of the people dressed up in T-rex costumes, all clumsily making their way across a green in Washington D.C., protesting a latest legislative injustice. I like pondering gladioli. I am grateful for our A/C.

I like sending out prayers for rain. And prayers for closed floodgates. And prayers for rain.