I've been staying in the boat house, and have had the most magical evenings. Sitting in the Saranac chair, which is like a chaise longe, only higher, and which is in the corner of the porch overlooking the lake and the mountains. There is no power on the porch so I do my crosswords by candlelight. This makes them more legitimate, somehow, although it makes the tiny numbers really hard to read. I like doing them and pretend I'm doing them to prevent the onset of Alzheimers or senility, but mostly I like doing them because they make me feel smart. Like playing Jeopardy against the person who make up the puzzle. These are ones I get from The Trentonian,off of the Internet. More challenging than most but I can still do them.

Anyway, there I sit at night, where it's as cool as it is anywhere, watching it get darker and darker on the lake. I interrupt myself just before it gets TOO dark and go for a swim. The water is totally black and all I can see when I swim underwater is the white sticks that are my arms. They're all blurry and ill-defined but look really cool. I love this. I look up to the porch, where I've only left 2 candles burning and the light, reflected against the red-brown of the siding, is very pretty. It's just really, really nice and I feel so lucky to have this experience to myself. And my dogs, of course. I have to let them share it with me or they sit on the porch and whine. Tess swims out to me in great panic, puffing as she swims fast. I'm teaching her to stay a certain distance away from swimmers--I push her away and say "WATCH OUT." It's not working very well. I tried splashing water in her face, which is what you're supposed to do. That didn't work at all. I can barely see her as she swims toward me, just the "V" in the water that she leaves behind her.

And it continues to be hot, so hot here. Unusual for the Adirondacks, and so many people are having bad sinus and lung reactions. Including me. I'm taking antihistamines and using my inhalers. I'm counting on my trip to Colorado to cure this problem, but first I need to mow my lawn, which will exacerbate the whole thing mercilessly. I need to clean my house for Lin. She is going to stay there and take care of Tess and Chances for the 5 days I will be gone. She doesn't need to feed the fish: Mr. Guppy died the other day, the last of the band of 4. I'll wait until after my August vacation to get any more, then I'll go back to the store and look at the whole array of fish before deciding who to get next (who will be the next victims?).

I'm off to Colo. tomorrow to be with about 17 friends from high school and junior high school. I'm nervous about the trip--have to make a connection in Newark going there, one in Cleveland coming back. Three people are meeting me in Denver to drive to Vail together, so the pressure's on not to miss my flight in Newark. I have a 7:00 a.m. flight from Burlington, so I think I need to leave home at 3 a.m. Won't the dogs be surprised when I wake them up? Won't I be surprised if I wake up? I'm looking forward to being in Colo. again, it's been many, many years since I was there. I like being with this group of people but I really don't have much in common with most of them. They are true suburban American wives and mothers, with lives so different from my own. I am one of 3 who has no children and the only one who has no partner. There is one other who is not married, but she has a boyfriend (or did the last time we were together, 3 years ago). They cannot relate to my life at all, but I lived in their worlds when I lived in Rockford. Except for the ones in Calif. and Oregon, I can't imagine what it's like to live in those places.

So off I go, hoping for the best.