It all started night before last, when Rob fell. He was coming home late from the supermarket, carrying a bag of ice for mom (our refrigerator no longer makes ice) and some groceries. It was a moonless night and he managed to trip on a manhole cover. I didn’t know about the fall until the next morning. When I learned of it, I changed all appointments, made a doctor’s appointment for Rob, and found a sitter for mom. We made a few side trips to other markets while we had the chance and the sitter. But this is only the beginning of the saga.

I took Val for a walk yesterday in the searing heat. He seemed to want to go the long way, so we did, limiting as much of our walk as possible to the protection of the shade trees and grassy lawns. But with this heat, most grass in our neighborhood is like dried wheat. Val was apparently not feeling well and vomited twice. When I returned home, I found more evidence of his illness and called Stanley Steemer. What pet owner can do without them? Through the night, he managed to vomit twice more. I tried to clean with a little vinegar and water, but the affected carpet is woolen and more than 100 years old. Still, it was worth the effort. No serious damage done.

And mom has been doing her fugue.

I like your shirt? Where did you get it?

At the store, mom.

Where’s Rob? Is he still sleeping? He sleeps a lot.

No, it’s 3:40 in the afternoon. He’s upstairs.

Where did you get your shirt? I like the colors.

Thank you.

Where’s Rob? Is he still sleeping?

No. He’s not.

Is it cold outside?

No, it’s nearly 95 degrees.

Where’s Rob? Is he still sleeping.

No, he’s upstairs.

Is it cold outside? I like your shirt.

And on and on and on and on… all in between calls from the workmen, the Stanley Steemer guys, and mom’s nurse. It’s a madhouse! It’s a zoo!

Busy day at the ranch. Jake and Rich came today to ensure that I would not have any woodchucks, raccoons, skunks, possums, or groundhogs under the new toolshed. The guys are in the process of building a critter barrier as I write. At the same time, the Stanley Steemer guys and mom’s nurse converged. We had a houseful, while Val was consigned to my office. Meanwhile, mom keeps calling for her amah to dress her for the club. It’s just one of those days. It’s hot, my plants are suffering, Val is suffering, mom thinks it’s the middle of winter, and I am tired. What started out as the most gorgeous spring has turned into a challenging summer. Nonetheless, I am ready. Besides the heat, the beetles have returned. I have distributed milky spore. Next year, they won’t be as prolific and the year after that they will be virtually gone. With any luck, better days loom ahead. Winter will surely come and I will be able to tell my mother that it is, indeed, cold outside.