Friday night i binged and read the next installment in Ryk E Spoor's Hyperion series... it's kind of a space opera, i guess? It begins with Earth in a state of technological abundance, and one of the things i enjoy is the affirmation that in the absence of "needing to work" that people would continue to be creative and ambitious. Grand Central Arena (first book free) has first contact and reveals a fascinating universe structure concept. This fourth book, Shadows of Hyperion, came about with crowd funding, and i was delighted to see left the story line open for more while leaving me satiated. I do feel i need to reread them all now.
Saturday and a good bits of Sunday i have been catching up with online things. Large chunks of that seem to be deleting emails regarding causes for which it is too long past responding in solidarity, or tech newsletters which will be replaced with even more up to date things. I am impressed by how much time i can spend just tapping away. Admittedly, i spent much of my free time in California doing just that.
We had Christine's sister, her husband, and friends J-- & L-- over last night for long delayed gatherings (we had strived pre-pandemic to see J-- & L-- once a month). Having both couples over meant Christine could escape to cook or take care of pets and they could talk to each other, easing the stress. I think my family gatherings will be as easy, although i am very tempted to order the chairs Christine dismissed.
I ended up doing little to prepare outside other than picking a lovely bouquet. The rain (yay, rain!) had bent down some of the butterfly weed's bright orange blooms so i added those to daisies, yarrow, and grasses, then went and picked some of the purple stems of the downy wood mint (that came out of nowhere -- seeds scattered in 2018?) to contrast.
The evening was beautiful, overcast skies clearing shortly after J&L arrived. The cool night was not cold enough to make watching a documentary on the porch idylic -- i watched the big dipper become visible, observed a few fireflies (diminished numbers due to the chill)
I've now burnt hours of this gorgeous holiday morning while going through 2016 June photos of the landscape here in its terrifying wilderness state. We've been here five years. Not unremarkable years with the first year marked by the anti-trans bill passed the day we signed for the house, that summer unfolding with the presidential campaign year, four years of a presidency that terrified me for the future of the marginalized and the facts, Mom's stroke, and a pandemic. Global warming and ecosystem crisis are clear to me -- although the fires in California since we left would have also been unambiguous.
Out out out i should go: finally get tomatoes and peppers in and maybe even the sweet potatoes.