Volcanic Eruption

Here I am, miserably hot, writing instead of sleeping because of the heat, and wondering how to be more tolerant of the situation. I don’t like to be hot. I feel sick when I’m hot. I sweat into a puddle of mush, get dehydrated, and don’t function well when I’m hot. Did I mention I can’t sleep? The bottom line is, some people don’t like being hot, and I am one of them.
I am in my mother’s home, visiting, wanting to be a good daughter, and truly wanting to assist where I can. I am not allowed to help unless directed by my sister, very similar to when I was twelve. This does not go over too well with my ‘independent’ (stubborn?) nature. After all, I left home forty-two years ago. You’d think I learned something by now, but alas, neither my age, my independence, nor my careers give me any credibility. I must be told what to do, every step of the way. Arghh. (It was just National Talk Like a Pirate Day)
I get very quiet here. I am sure I am not the first, nor the last person who will experience this change from the person I have become in my life – into this quiet person trying hard not to rock the boat, upset the apple-cart, or cause minor volcanic eruptions. The familial relationship can be very tricky. It is also very hard to change old patterns. I interrupted my sister (old pattern) which I shouldn’t have done, and when I apologized, she wouldn’t listen or accept (old pattern), which she should have done. Change is hard.
Thanks for letting me blow off steam. I am venting like a volcano, assuming that is better than erupting. Writing is a good release for me. Maybe now would be a good time to work on the invasion scene in my fantasy novel!
Color in the high country is peaking. This year I have seen some of my favorite coral color along with the vibrant yellow. It seems to me that only happens about once every five years. It is a spectacular gift to end the summer with.

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