Downtown Portsmouth

Okay, the title is a lie. I'm not going to talk about downtown Portsmouth (NH), even though I just had a fabulous evening there with my sister and our friend L, including Japanese food, minor shopping, good wine, and better company. I'm just rambling because (so I've heard) that's how I roll.

It is fucking hot here. Keep in mind I live in southern New Mexico and we know hot, and not just the chiles. It seems insanely ironic that while my (adopted) hometown enjoys 90 degree weather and monsoon rain storms, we're sweltering in the region of my (original) hometown. It's hitting 90 here too, unusual in terms of how many days it's done so, and it's humid as fuck. It's nice for those fine lines, and for a curly girl, but it's wicked awful at night when you can't face sweltering in your sheets. Hence I'm up late, doing laundry, dishes, anything to avoid the oven that is my bedroom.

I am dreaming of surfing. The Maine ocean is unforgivingly cold, but that seems like a small price to pay tonight -- possibly a blessing, in fact. Let me just catch some waves tomorrow, please do, Karma -- or Magic 8 Ball -- or whatever passes for spiritual in my brain, which is actually nothing. I'll go with the Magic 8 Ball. Anyway, I'm keeping busy, especially tonight, when a bed seems like torture rather than release.

I try to be a really good helper to my sister during these summer visits. I stay a long time, often around six or more weeks, and I know I am lucky to have a brother-in-law (or anyone, really) who doesn't mind such a houseguest. We all love each other. I try very hard to improve the running of the house. I look after the kids (and adore them). I load and unload the dishwasher. I take over the laundry, completely, and I mean completely. It satisfies the OCD in me (what's your number? and if you didn't get that, you don't get that. Mine is 5, incidentally). I cook as often as possible, which usually means most dinners.

And I don't do any of this because I should, or must, or am asked to do so. I do it because I want to. I do more here than I do in my own house. I laugh at my boyfriend when he comments on my long "vacations," because while it is, it also isn't. And I love every fucking moment, or at least most of them, and what else can you ask? How much better can it get?

My sister is wicked cool. She's smart, and funny, and savvy, and I have never and will never know anyone with whom I laugh more...belly laughs, the kind that hurt your abs in the best possible way.

So this couldn't be a better place to be. I am so fucking lucky. I need to remind myself of that on a regular basis. Who doesn't?