back in carbondale now, and i can tell you, this town hasn't changed much, it's just as steamy as ever, i've been telling everyone what a novelty it was to be able to go outside in the summer, and I meant it. but they're jealous; just coming off of a heat wave where 97 was "feels like 113", i pointed out that this new statistic "feels like" doesn't take into account people like me, for whom it "feels like" hell and nothing better. and it almost doesn't matter if it's 113, 105 or 97. surprisingly few people in this area go to minnesota, or michigan, or any other cool place for that matter, though it has occurred to them to go to, say, california, orcolorado, or someplace at least a little less steamy. but the point is that I hate to yammer on about how great my two weeks was, knowing how badly they've been suffering back here.

meanwhile tomatoes, onions, peppers, kohlrabi, cabbage, etc. all overflowing, as well as weeds and grasses that are dying to choke the whole thing off. in addition a swimming pool had blown over in a storm and sat on an edge of the vegetable garden, suffocating a number of things which may or may not make it; that storm also delivered everyone from the heat wave, lowering the temp by about twenty or so, or at least lowering the "feels like". but the same houses, same streets, same new students, I don't know why they have all these new students down here from chicago, sweltering in a summer heat, getting a tour of campus on those little wheely-buses. here, i can show you this town. it's all "feels-like," no substance.

well, maybe that's an exaggeration. we do have a university here; it's in the center of a pretty region; there are lots of things to be proud of. I'm feeling a little refreshed and ready to attack life as i know it, take care of the stuff I've written, work on my novel, work on a linguistics book; spend some quality time with the little boys, do some reflecting on what's happening with the bigger boys, etc. I have a month here to do just about anything – build a loft, finish the novel, clean out the garage, publish the memoir, whatever.

early in the morning, you can go out, pick weeds, water; all kinds of things are possible, but you have to be up. if you sleep 'til 8, or maybe 9, too late. might as well sleep 'til 2, take the first three hours waking up, then go out hoping that it will cool down enough to actually stand outside for a minute or two, if you happen to see someone in the street. but alas, you have kids, you're up at 8 anyway. the question is if you're going to get that little window there, where it's actually cooler than any other time of day, when the sun is just coming up, and the rabbits are headed back into the weeds. I made it this morning; then, I made myself a cup of coffee, and now kids are up. pictures coming.