July 16th, 2013

hasui moon at magome

(no subject)

The squirrels have eaten all my squash flowers, and occasionally the squash vines as well. Apparently they ravaged Prof.& Mrs. Islamic Studies' vegetables too, one yard up; also their carnations and pears, and we none of us know why. Have moved the single squash plant that retains incipient flowers to the front porch table and shall see what happens there, given that four doors down has marrows growing happily in a front yard planter and no beast has come near them.

Looking for something on the shelf, I came across my '98 paper diary. The late 90s is a blank slate in memory. I could tell you one or two events in summer '98 and some more in the spring of '99, but generally '97 to mid 2000 left no footprint. I see why. The diary is a record of depression and reverse culture shock: dispirited reminiscences of Japan interspersed with mopes over the difficulty of writing. Utterly bleak. But then I remember that my paper diaries were for venting, not recording. (There's that to be said for online diaries; on the down side, those tend to disappear without warning.) And indeed, the events I remember from '98 make no appearance in the pages. It's rare for me to look back at a time and think how much happier I am now: but oh, how much happier I am now than I was fifteen years ago.

Also, yes, it is hot, but not as hot as it could be. I think the post-menopausal body may have cooled a bit because the heat feels like it did long ago, and not the hammering onslaught it became in-- well, the late 90s for sure.