I am very worried about Hurricane Lee, a category 5 that is menacing us in its projected path. There’s no way off the Outer Cape. I remember how much damage Hurricane Bob, that was a category 2, did here.  Our house is on a hill and would not withstand anything like what may hit us. 

I have been forcing myself to walk with Woody at the pier.  Since I partially tore two tendons in my ankle in Detroit on my last gig before Covid, I have done little walking for exercise.  It’s difficult when I haven’t done it for some years and it wears me out, especially in this hot and extremely humid weather. But each time, I go a little farther.

Schwartzie went to the vet for his annual checkup and shots this week. He is otherwise healthy but his heart murmur is a problem.  He sees a feline cardologist in early October.  He will probably not be a long-lived cat. He is the gentlest, most affectionate top cat we have ever had. He won’t take shit, but he’s laid back and good natured to the extreme. He is beautiful and sweet.

We continue to get some tomatoes and were able to can 5 ½ pints of good Italian sauce this week.  Normally we can at least 20 pints of Italian plus some hot sauce and some simple sauce and then about the same number of canned tomatoes.  Not this year.  We’re lucky to finally get any.  We even eat some every day.

We are in a drought again.  The mainland is getting flooded, but we are dry as sandpaper.  The air is heavy.  It’s oppressive.  But I don’t wish for the kind of storms we may experience soon.

I have been reading MONSTER by Claire Dederer, a very interesting take on fandom and our experience as audience of art, especially what’s judged great art by men, always men, who are brutal and sometimes criminally so to women and young girls.  How do we respond to their art – music, books, paintings, film – if it moves us.  Can we actually ever separate biography from art when in the internet age, we know so much about any even slightly famous person? It’s an interesting and intelligent book. One quarrel I have with her is her insistence on seeing motherhood as central to all women.  She sees those who chose to escape it as guilty.  I never wanted to be a mother and chose not to.

Today, Michigan football begins.  I wonder if they can continue their excellence from last year.  With the Pats mediocre, it’s nice to have a good team to root for and enjoy.  Tonight, I’ll do something with the remains of a spoon roast – what we ended up slicing off when the number of dinner party guests diminished a few weeks ago. I’m not sure what I’ll do with it, but I know I’ll cook pattypan summer squash tonight, with onions, sour cream and curry.  I’d also like to cook some of them down, puree and freeze them for winter. 

This coming week I have two medical appointments and Woody has one.  I try to wait till after Labor Day to schedule them, as most Cape Codders try to do–when the traffic has eased and it’s easier to arrive on time.