the dog days of summer
plural noun. the sultry part of the summer, supposed to occur during the period that Sirius, the Dog Star, rises at the same time as the sun: now often reckoned from July 3 to August 11. a period marked by lethargy, inactivity, or indolence.
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1. The Human Tragicomedy
My across the street neighbors asks me to give her key (we keep a spare) to someone who needs to get into the house while they are away on vacation for the next 3 weeks.
My across the street neighbors asks me to give her key (we keep a spare) to someone who needs to get into the house while they are away on vacation for the next 3 weeks.
My next door neighbors ask me to take in the newspaper for the week while they are away on vacation.
My neighbor two doors down asks if I can take in her mail for 2 weeks while she is away on vacation.
My neighbor 3 houses up asks if I can feed her daughter's goldfish while they are away for the week.
My new neighbors who just moved in ask if I will take in their packages until they come back from vacation later this week.
My new neighbors who just moved in ask if I will take in their packages until they come back from vacation later this week.
There seems to be a pattern here...
I could easily start a business: "Homebody Helper. Responsible neighbor who spends most of her time at home will make it seem like you do too." But I prefer being neighborly to trying to monetize my helpfulness. I love my neighbors, and I like being of service. In a way I feel flattered, or at least connected in a healthy way.
I could easily start a business: "Homebody Helper. Responsible neighbor who spends most of her time at home will make it seem like you do too." But I prefer being neighborly to trying to monetize my helpfulness. I love my neighbors, and I like being of service. In a way I feel flattered, or at least connected in a healthy way.
Still, these tasks confirm the feeling I have as I walk through my neighborhood, from my more modest end up through the bigger houses at the top of the street, that it feels a bit like a ghost town lately. And it could explain why I'm finding my energy wane more quickly than usual. It's not me, it's Sirius the dog star: something cosmic and chemical and geologic. It's a way that we are a part of some greater ebb and flow in the universe, which makes it easier to let go of judgment or aversion.
Please excuse me from the agreement I made with myself to chronicle my life on a weekly basis due to indolence. I walk and swim and write in my head but the lethargy that has set in makes this word to page part - the synthesizing and editing and sorting out that is the most demanding part of the creative process - hard to sustain.
There's also been so much else going on that I must attend to even in 90 degree heat, responsibilities that drain whatever reserves of energy I have. The magic elixir of coffee and necessity propels me forward each day. There are visits to doctors for V's increased impulsivity and anxiety as well as a case of pink eye. Getting ready for one more week of camp later this month, updating the health and medication forms. And the Herculean task of trying to find after-school help as we head back to work next month. All part of the ongoing list of How it's Really Different that I wish others understood: from the long applications and waiting list and numerous phone calls regarding funding and administration of medication and other details for 6 days of camp for V - far more effort than an entire summer used to be to plan for his brother; ditto finding afternoon help: emails to every person and organization I know, and postings on numerous sites where others seek childcare: people seeking help with 3 kids under the age of 5 starting at 6 in the morning - where they are also expected to clean the house, drive the kids to activities all day and make dinner - have lists of people eager to do the job, while I still have no responses for someone to spend 3 hours a day with a teen with severe autism (the smart, fun, and endearing descriptor doesn't seem to help.) Or is it that I seek an experienced, energetic, engaging, reliable and attentive person? I will clean the house for you. I'll fix you dinner if you want. We'll pay you well and we'll be so grateful and easy-going. And still nada. In addition to anxiety in the moment it brings up enormous fear for the future: if it's that hard to find good help for an autistic teen a few hours a day, how much harder still when he is an adult, because as much progress as I hope he will continue to make, V will always need help and likely round the clock supervision.
This is not how I want to spend these dog days. I'm bone tired. I want one of those creative staycations or productive, privileged post-retirements to devote to artistic endeavors that I read about in the NY Times. Or at least the luxury of the white privileged mom (and her peers) in the article that went viral complaining that she was punished for leaving her 4 year old alone in a locked car while she ran an errand, with just a cursory mention that any black or brown mom would have her kid taken away from her for the same infraction; and the women of any color with kids like mine who couldn't leave their child - even one who is 3 or 4 times as old as that 4 year old - alone for 15 seconds, let alone 15 minutes! (note to self: cancel my newspaper subscription.)
It's not that I have that aspirational longing for superficial or consumerist things I keep reading about, as if all anyone wants in this post-Trump world is to revel in proof of their material success. I've never been interested - and I realistically know it's not possible at this point - to ever live a life that is in any way affluent. I just want to be safe and comfortable, and for others to enjoy that same basic right. Sure, I'd love to travel and get weekly massages, but my main aspirations now are for peace of mind and freedom from having to respond to the needs of others. I just want time. To feel relaxed. To do as others during these dog days of summer: to have a whole week or two to lie on a hammock or sit beside a body of water, where I will eventually swim, and then get out and continue in the glorious task of doing nothing. Or only what I want to do.
In the meantime, I am happy to take in your mail.
There's also been so much else going on that I must attend to even in 90 degree heat, responsibilities that drain whatever reserves of energy I have. The magic elixir of coffee and necessity propels me forward each day. There are visits to doctors for V's increased impulsivity and anxiety as well as a case of pink eye. Getting ready for one more week of camp later this month, updating the health and medication forms. And the Herculean task of trying to find after-school help as we head back to work next month. All part of the ongoing list of How it's Really Different that I wish others understood: from the long applications and waiting list and numerous phone calls regarding funding and administration of medication and other details for 6 days of camp for V - far more effort than an entire summer used to be to plan for his brother; ditto finding afternoon help: emails to every person and organization I know, and postings on numerous sites where others seek childcare: people seeking help with 3 kids under the age of 5 starting at 6 in the morning - where they are also expected to clean the house, drive the kids to activities all day and make dinner - have lists of people eager to do the job, while I still have no responses for someone to spend 3 hours a day with a teen with severe autism (the smart, fun, and endearing descriptor doesn't seem to help.) Or is it that I seek an experienced, energetic, engaging, reliable and attentive person? I will clean the house for you. I'll fix you dinner if you want. We'll pay you well and we'll be so grateful and easy-going. And still nada. In addition to anxiety in the moment it brings up enormous fear for the future: if it's that hard to find good help for an autistic teen a few hours a day, how much harder still when he is an adult, because as much progress as I hope he will continue to make, V will always need help and likely round the clock supervision.
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| yes (and coffee) |
This is not how I want to spend these dog days. I'm bone tired. I want one of those creative staycations or productive, privileged post-retirements to devote to artistic endeavors that I read about in the NY Times. Or at least the luxury of the white privileged mom (and her peers) in the article that went viral complaining that she was punished for leaving her 4 year old alone in a locked car while she ran an errand, with just a cursory mention that any black or brown mom would have her kid taken away from her for the same infraction; and the women of any color with kids like mine who couldn't leave their child - even one who is 3 or 4 times as old as that 4 year old - alone for 15 seconds, let alone 15 minutes! (note to self: cancel my newspaper subscription.)
It's not that I have that aspirational longing for superficial or consumerist things I keep reading about, as if all anyone wants in this post-Trump world is to revel in proof of their material success. I've never been interested - and I realistically know it's not possible at this point - to ever live a life that is in any way affluent. I just want to be safe and comfortable, and for others to enjoy that same basic right. Sure, I'd love to travel and get weekly massages, but my main aspirations now are for peace of mind and freedom from having to respond to the needs of others. I just want time. To feel relaxed. To do as others during these dog days of summer: to have a whole week or two to lie on a hammock or sit beside a body of water, where I will eventually swim, and then get out and continue in the glorious task of doing nothing. Or only what I want to do.
In the meantime, I am happy to take in your mail.
2. Another viewpoint, from the source. (Because we believe in civil discourse in this house.)
You're bone-tired? Now that sounds very appealing. I have to settle for dry kibble and naps. (haha, that's a canine joke) But seriously, when did dog days get such a bad rap? Did you know that Sirius the dog star, or Canis Major as my species and anyone else conversant in Latin calls it, is the brightest star visible in the night's sky from any part of Earth? It's almost twice as bright as Canopus, the next brightest star. That's pretty awesome stuff!
And on a more grounded level, what could be better than dog days?
Walk. Sniff. Bark. Nap.You could embroider that on a pillow. (You can leave out the eat/drink/pee/poop part that keeps us going, that makes us living beings just like you.)
Every day is a good day. I am grateful and mindful without all the effort you put into it.
And if I may remind you, as we cross the street and head south as we often do through a working-class new immigrant neighborhood, most people are still here, working to cover their rent or mortgage or car payments. People are happy just having a barbecue and blasting their music. There are no early retirements and second homes and third cars and smug embrace of wellness. There are no distant relatives of Gwyneth Paltrow replenishing themselves in any of the small houses we pass every day, many with 2 or 3 families crammed into one address. Have some perspective. We have a whole house and a yard to ourselves, and while you may not be able to afford renovations, you will never have to worry about eviction.
You will never be abandoned, like I was, because someone couldn't afford to keep you or hold onto the farm or whatever reason I was found wandering around rural Virginia with no people. This house, this life - yes, I know I have far less responsibility than you - I am a dog, and not a working one - but you have it far better than most people. Yes, cancel your subscription to the paper (although those blue sleeves it comes in are the perfect bags for cleaning up after me). Or just throw out the Style and Travel and Real Estate sections and focus on the news - it's too important to ignore right now. Having an ignorant, unhinged president is all the more reason to be well-informed, to be able to take action to make positive change. Focus on what's important and let go of the rest.
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| sniff |
Walk. Sniff. Bark. Nap.You could embroider that on a pillow. (You can leave out the eat/drink/pee/poop part that keeps us going, that makes us living beings just like you.)
Every day is a good day. I am grateful and mindful without all the effort you put into it.
And if I may remind you, as we cross the street and head south as we often do through a working-class new immigrant neighborhood, most people are still here, working to cover their rent or mortgage or car payments. People are happy just having a barbecue and blasting their music. There are no early retirements and second homes and third cars and smug embrace of wellness. There are no distant relatives of Gwyneth Paltrow replenishing themselves in any of the small houses we pass every day, many with 2 or 3 families crammed into one address. Have some perspective. We have a whole house and a yard to ourselves, and while you may not be able to afford renovations, you will never have to worry about eviction.
Your dog days might be hot and muggy but before you know it the days will be shorter and then it will start getting cold and you'll wish you were back here, where you can just throw on those slightly more fitted versions of mumus you actually wear out in public. Humans. sigh.
Breathe. smell, appreciate.There's a whole big sky up there and trees down here. If nothing else, learn how to nap. I swear, it's a game changer.
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| nap |
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