I haven’t updated in over a year, but I decided today I might as well give this another go. No one reads this but it is still good practice, right?

I have joined a letter-writing club and two book clubs, as well as a pen pal service. It would seem like I am engaging in activities that don’t rely upon technology, screens, etc. I read books made of paper and I write letters on paper. I collect stationery and Japanese washi tape. I seal my mail with wax. I don’t receive as many letters as I send, which I guess is why I signed up with the Letter Writer’s Alliance — to seek out those who also like to write back.

I am not sure where it’s going but I have thought about it and realized that in the past year or two I have verily come out of my reticence. I am more than willing to get out there and meet people, hustle, take chances, go for it. I’m still working toward something. I have been doing work for actual money lately, that hadn’t happened in almost nine years. I wonder if I can turn my passions into some kind of “business”, not that I need to do that, but it would make me work harder, and that is good for a person.

Reading: “Most Blessed of the Patriarchs” by Annette Gordon-Reed. An interestingly structured bio of Thomas Jefferson, investigating the way his mind worked in every facet and stage of his life. I like it, even though I don’t really like him.

“The Subtle Art of Not Giving a Fuck” by Mark Manson. A manual for living a more simple and less selfish life. That’s a far too short summary. I also just read “The Book of Joy” and found them to be oddly similar in their messages.

Okay that’s it for now! Ta.

“When Jefferson spoke of ‘my country,’ he usually meant Virginia, as Adams referred to Massachusetts as ‘my country’.” — David McCullough

Who could have known I should ever have identified with Adams and Jefferson, for I am beginning to see Washington as my country, my land, where my people live and where my values will be protected by the rights granted to the States, thank you Madison. I share nothing with certain other parts of this continent except a common tongue and currency.

I wonder if Madison was incorrect, that a Republic can in fact grow too large, that the people can’t be held together by common ideals? How can they be when divided by demagoguery and wilful ignorance? At least he got the part about protecting the majority from the minority (and vice versa) correct. We must hold on to that, or I’ll want no part of what follows, and a Washingtonian I will be.

And the refugees from the red states will come pouring in.

It has not rained here since some time in early June. This has made the pollen a constant factor in the air, and mosquitoes a non-entity. I have been trying to keep the backyard watered but kind of given up on the front, which now wears patches of brown. I water my flower pots, and sit in the sunshine reading.

Sometime early this morning, after waking up at five with my husband’s alarm, I went back to sleep. I had some very odd dreams, which is typical for daybreak. In one of them I was outside and I noticed that it was raining. I was delighted, and looked at the puddles and the wet concrete with gratitude.

I woke again at seven and walked downstairs, had some coffee and watched a few minutes of an old movie. At around eight, I got to my feet and looked outside at the backyard. Everything was wet. The gutters were dripping. I know there had been no rain in the forecast for the foreseeable future, and when I checked the weather online, it still maintained that there was no chance of rain. But there it was in front of me. I walked outside to bring in the soggy yoga mat that was left on the porch.

Such a calm sense of relief when the rain comes after so many weeks. I know it won’t be much, and it won’t save the dead grass, but at least it might wash away some of the dust and pollen.

A few of the items I received for Mother’s Day: flowers, my favorite candy, and a tricorn or cocked hat, with a flower pin supplied by me. My sweet husband is on board with my history loving lunacy.

It was a rainy and low-key Mother’s Day here. I remember every day how lucky I am to have such sweet, bright, and healthy daughters. I hope I am giving them everything they need to be strong, kind, and curious young women.