It's hot and humid in Georgia, night or day, rain or shine. It almost feels as if you're walking through an invisible cloud. Everything feels damp, hair, clothes, the things you touch. I wonder how it can be so hot with so much water in the air. If it gets any more humid will I get water in my lungs?
The sun sets green and gold over the lake near my father-in-law's as my husband and I walk hand and hand in the warm evening breeze. I can hear our dog, B'rux, panting as she trots beside us. Her ears perk from time to time and she cocks her head from one side to the other as fireflies wink in and out of the blue shadows between trees and beneath Kudzu vines. The Cicada's wake up to click their distinct cries into the fading light.
And I find that I'm okay here. With my hand in my husband's bigger, hotter, hand and even as uncomfortable as I am (I really don't like being damp, wet or dry please) I'm okay. I don't need anything, but maybe a glass of cold water when we get back to the house. I'm not dwelling on the things I want, like a decent plate of Sashimi, fried Tako, or a bowl of creme of asparagus soup like they made in Germany. I'm okay here.
Tomorrow I'll wake up, exercise till I cry, and hate where I am, want a place of my own and wish for the food I ate overseas.
But for now, I'm okay, my soul is calm.
It's a nice change... I think I might just like it. (^_^)
Sometimes You Just Get A Bag Of Dicks
1 day ago