it's at 91, on its way to 97, with "feels like" up near or over 100, and everyone is just going along on their business as usual, while i'm trying to lose weight, tired of carrying around all this baggage. but i don't want to go outside to do it. i call this "helter swelter"...

the garden is overflowing; looking at it is an exercise in not picking stuff that i agreed to lay off of until i was absolutely ready to eat it. this is especially true of cabbage, tomatoes, peppers, & kohlrabi which i still have only a vague concept of. the onions, i've been eating steadily.

i've spent a lot of time writing the annals of bipolarism, an account of an ongoing family crisis that consumes a lot of our time and attention. i don't know the answers; writing has helped me clarify the problems. maybe i can use some of this computer time learning more. unfortunately, my computer time is limited. my heart is aching for family members who suffer and try to make it in this world at the same time. as i back up a little i am more likely to feel lucky; i still have them; they are around; they still love me and talk to me; they are in various stages of dealing with the hand they've been dealt. they will have to work this out for themselves. their children, on the other hand, will have to decide whether to choose to eliminate it from the gene set that they pass along. it is unique. it is special; it comes down through the ages. it is a burden, and at the same time a gift. do you pass it along, if you have a choice? do you stand by and watch science eliminate it altogether? i am not even able to imagine answering these.

airconditioning is a lifeline, a small tube through which we are able to breathe and stay alive until it cools down, in october maybe. some parts of the country are deep in a drought, turning to desert, parching up, forcing people to kill off cows and livestock, dreading the dry season which may last well into winter. again, i have no idea, no idea whatsoever. i feel a strong pull toward minnesota, but then, i've already gone over it, one has to make a living, or at least be there while one's wife makes a living. she, a sociology professor, had an appointment with our neighbor the police chief the other day. his idea was to enter the sociology department to get a phd; she said, it's easier if he doesn't need funding. he missed the appointment, because of a dead body. one of our homeless guys, maybe, he said. she said, this is one of the better excuses i've heard. more later.