Tea and Oranges

It’s raining in Delray Beach.

There’s a tin roof next door to our window and we can hear the rain as it trickles off of it and into the gutters, collecting into the potholes of the asphalt down below.

I started reading Eve Babitz, Slow Days, Fast Company. I like it a great deal. She talks about her sojourn to Bakersfield, about the hills like rusted suede and the mustard colored trucks (mustard colored so the dust is imperceptible to the naked eye).

The sky is a blurred shade of gray and it’s cold today, but not as cold as it is up north, up in the Midwest. I’m happy I bought a frozen chicken pot pie that I can pop into the oven before my AA meeting tonight, after I run my errands.

My toes are cold, but I have some socks with Betty Boop on them that I can pull over my feet. I wore my leggings today so the hems of my pants don’t dip into the puddles.

I woke up today to the news of Rob Reiner’s untimely death. Like Gene Hackman’s passing, it was cruel and strange.

Days like these, I just want to sleep. Just to brew a cup of Constant Comment tea and eat some clementines, and sleep.