I am depressed today for no particular reason. Maybe I just miss being able to get Pen’s attention. For over fifty years I have been able to make her laugh, make her think, make her indulge in things we shouldn’t. But lately she is all consumed with the new construction of our five tiny-ish houses and one big playhouse. I forgot how deeply focussed she can become.
Of course the other four of us gladly let her do all the thinking. None of us have ever built a house before. None of us have dealt with architects or contractors, or subcontractors. Which is a good thing. My tendency when the framer asks me if I want the windows inset from the inside or outside is to say “Whatever is easiest.” I have been banned from the job site.
But Pen never takes a break. I can’t get her drunk. I tried to set a plate of brownies in front of her just so I could watch a playful twinkle in her eye. She smiled. She said thank you. Then she went back through the portal to her future world.
ML, Ryan, and Harriet also seem a little low key. It is hard for all of us to share this semi functional ranch house, especially during the hottest summer in history—a fact every news outlet screams at us on a daily basis. Although most of us have known each other for years, none of us have ever succeeded at a life long relationship. And this arrangement is framed as a life long commitment.
I think I’m going to stop writing now because I am more depressed than ever.
And then there’s Hurricane Hillary coming our way. If I’m not careful I’m gonna start thinking about Trump.
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