The most charming, murderous cat is currently in my care. His name is Max, and he’s quite the creature. He shows affection by bringing me dead baby bunnies or leaving them for me in odd places. Sometimes I only find feet or other bits, and I have to clean up the blood in the carpet. Max sees nothing wrong with his morbid surprises, and while he is proud of himself and very handsome, I do think that his blood lust could be quieted if he wore a bell.

Max and I tend the garden every morning before it gets too hot. He sits on the plants I need to water and meows plaintively. I try to water the flora with one hand and pet him with the other, and I gently scold him as he sits on his owner’s naturalia. He gives me a look with his pale green eyes that says “Call the cops. I don’t give a fuck”, and therein certifies that he is the quintessential cat.

My days consist of caring for this garden, going for long swims, and drinking lots of coffee. I am trying to get back into writing and I delete most of what I write, which I know I shouldn’t do. I bake and cook and do the dishes, listening to Neil Young and lots of Fleetwood Mac. It is a Fleetwood Mac summer, and if you ask me why I won’t have a proper explanation, it just is.

Getting back into swimming feels incredible, and with every lap and breath I feel myself returning to my partially water-centric self. I am at heart a swimmer, a lover of bodies of water, and a participant in the currents and tides that I find. My favorite places on earth have rivers, streams, oceans. I have little fear of drowning and find the smell of chlorine alluring. and there is a meditative, problem-solving, peace that I achieve while doing laps that is poetic, more than I can express in words.

I went to a baseball game this week, where we drank overpriced beer, bemoaned our local team’s dismal loss, and overall enjoyed the summer evening as it cooled down. Local baseball games are saturated with Americana in the most delightful ways, and baseball is always a great way to spend an evening.

Tonight is the women’s World Cup game, USA vs. China, and I will be watching it with with enthusiasm. Watching high-caliber female athletes kick ass always feels awesome, and if America can pull this off, it would be glorious! I will not claim to be a die-hard fan of soccer but the stamina and strategy and kinship and borderline telekinesis the players have with one another are addicting to watch.

I hope summer or winter or whatever season it is where you are is wonderful. I hope you feel contentment. I mean to do a post on why I prefer contentment over happiness…regardless, may you have good warm fuzziness in your life and be doing something or multiple worthwhile things. Worthwhile is subjective so if it’s sitting on your couch for 14 hours, go for it.

Tschüß folks!