Personal slights, slightly personal

If all goes to plan, this will make its way into the world on Wednesday morning, before I head off to teach for ten days in Asheville, NC. I am packing now, trying to hide that fact from my dog to protect his tender emotions, trying also to figure out how to hedge my suitcase space for heat and humidity and air conditioning.

In completely unrelated news, the US Women’s National Team just defeated England in the semi-finals of this year’s World Cup, and I’m reminded of the 2015 Finals, which I watched in a small town bar in Eastern Oregon. It was one of my favorite sports moments of all time—the seedy bar, the good company (Dave, my brother, my dad), the huge victory. All of us, fans or not fans, screaming with joy as we took the game home. After which, the four of us retreated to my dad’s cabin up in the mountains.

Clouds are starting to gather in the Tucson summer skies; it’s heat season, but also cloud season, with occasional bursts of creosote scent, if not yet any actual rain. After this trip, I’m home for  the summer, ready to work, ready to sleep in my own bed. Ready to watch the monsoons roll in as the city laughs with glee.

But not quite yet.