George Orwell: The past belongs to those who control the present.
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I never actually made a decision whether to go to the concert or not, but it is now 11:55 am, and I didn't dress and get out the door a half hour ago, so I guess I'm not going. And I'm not upset about my having lost track of time, despite having been up at 7, so I guess that's ok by me. Shrug.
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We've had so much rain this summer - well, not so much in quantity, more like constant drizzle then clouds so the prior drizzle didn't dry up before the next starts - anyway, so much that the ground is constantly moist. I opened the front door on the first sunny day in ages, a few days ago, and was struck by the smell.
Everything on the forest floor is rotting. Leaves and twigs and branches that take years to decompose are all rotting all at once. It's a deep, dark brown, loamy smell, with overtones of garbage pail and mold.
I have, or had, no strong allergies. Spring pollen irritates my sinuses, but not enough to call it an allergy. But I think maybe I may be allergic to mold. I've had sinus headaches and a slightly sore throat for a few weeks now (that high curtain at the top back of the throat, on either side of the uvula - is that where my tonsils are?), and a lot of back-of-the-throat phlegm that has me coughing every time I leave the house.
It feels a lot like April 1999, when the house in Highland was flooded by a burst hot water pipe, which also filled the house with steam, and by the time we discovered it there was mold everywhere including the ceilings, and actual toadstools and mushrooms growing on the carpets. I had this same feeling in my throat during the several weeks it took me to sort and decide what of the contents could be cleaned and saved and what had to be discarded. (The house, by the way, was gutted, leaving only the exterior studs and floor joists, which had to be washed with bleach.)
On the upside, I've heard that the wild mushroom crop this year is spectacular.
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1 comment:
I think your passive decision not to go was a wise one. Although the radio announcers insist it's 85 here, The Bullet staunchly says that it's 95 degrees. I believe the Bullet.
Who wants to sit around in 95 degree weather in the scalding sun? Especially someone as fair as you. I'll bet the promoters wouldn't even let you bring in your own sunblock.
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