Heat - wet what?

The asphalt melts.

You search for sprinklers. You plan walks based on shade.

Sunscreen drips off your face.
Foundation doesn't last. You sport a more natural look.

White cotton! Thank god. Handkerchief weight skirts and dresses.

You note the tan lines on flip-flop shod feet.

Adults with prickly heat. Sores from scratched bites.

You'd know you love your friends, because you don't mind their smells. You're surrounded.

Walk through a park and contemplate the fountain. Should you wish? Or rather, should you jump?

There's salsa and hip hop blaring through windows, cars, apartments, whirring noises and a beat.

Dog days.

Trust - the unexpected can work

My father loved watching the basketball players on 4th street. He'd take me with him, particularly on Saturday mornings. He'd watch the games, leaving me to the various and sundry park denizens.

New York was considerably more dangerous in the 1960s than it is today, making his an apparently foolish choice.

Nonetheless, every Saturday (other days too) the four year old me would chatter and play with middle aged homeless men.

Oddly enough,he was(and is) a fairly suspicious person, and yet -! He trusted that his child would be safe left to play with bums, and he was right.

Dirt - variable

We all find different things filthy. We all notice the filth others leave while willfully ignoring our own. I, for example, clean the toilet at least once every day, yet I rarely do the mirror.

Then there are the floors. How do we clean them? How often? Some people vacuum. Others swiffer.

Other people think we are pigs. To us, the pile of clothes is temporary. The books on the floor will be given away. We will dust tomorrow, today's doesn't count. The dishes in the living room will go into the dishwasher. The pristine picture we retain isn't sullied.

Anger - forgiveness?

We're told to forgive and forget.

Most of the time we do. Or, at least we forgive.

A while ago I realized that sometimes I don't. I forget but don't forgive.

That is, when I really do get angry at someone, I retain a niggling sense of how dreadfully that someone behaved long after I've lost the details. It's not necessary that I remain angry -- often enough I'm merely aware of some sort of -- well, of what?

Is it a betrayal?

Disappointment?

I don't really know.

Once I'm that angry it's a while until things to subside, and even so - !

Anger -- why

Several years ago I described an unhappy situation to a friend, who went on at length giving untenable suggestions. Eventually I quietly told her to stop talking. Later I told another friend how I had nearly lost it, and described the interaction. She knew precisely what I meant.

Why is it that some people Oh So Easily read us, and others completely miss even our most obvious emotional brou-ha-has? I'm as guilty as the next person, of course. So, here's what interests me. What are the cues? What do we pick up or miss? Why this stuff and not others?