I still have a couple of boxes of old letters I should just dump, but I love going through them. For most of them, I know or remember the writer. A couple have me stumped. They are from someone named Dick, and addressed to my marina address in DC when I worked at the National Theatre. There aren’t too many guys named Dick in my past, and only a couple in my present. One started out with “Hi love,” then asked me if I’d like to join him in checking out live-aboard marinas in Charleston. He signed his letters “Love, Dick.”

I don’t think I’ve ever dated or been in love with a Dick, and I can’t even visualize him. He may have been a boat person like me. He also mentions the Washington Ear, which narrated live theatre for blind and low-vision patrons, which I did at the National, Ford’s Theatre, Arena Stage, and the Kennedy Center. You’d think this would ring a bell, but nope. Richard Coe, Critic Emeritus of the Washington Post, signed his letters to me as “Dick,” which was quite an honor, I thought, but he surely would never have left DC and become a boat bum.

Part Deux: For those of you unlucky enough to be my driving friends, thank you all sooooo much for toting me around since my doctor (on a telehealth call, of all things) decided I was a Menace to Society, then called the DMV and had my license yanked. So I sold my car and am looking at the silver lining, which is how much I’m saving on gas, insurance, and maintenance. Whoopee.

For funsies these days - and to keep as cool as possible - I’m mostly staying inside under fans. Even my wonderful porch is too warm, even when the sun is over the yardarm. A couple weeks ago, I started keeping a steno book running list of things in the house that need attention. Steno books have two columns. I use the left column for things I need to do, and the right column for things I need in order to do the things listed in the left column. Magically, I’ve got half the left column crossed off, and only four items in the to-do column. Progress is being made! The house is messy, as there are tools and unread magazines everywhere, plus the usual collection of papers on my desk.

Oooooo - the desk! Happily, when our local Chevy dealership closed, they sold their office furniture, and I bought a real desk - grey metal with 3 regular drawers, a lap drawer and a file drawer. This was only maybe 2 months ago, so as you can imagine, all the stuff on top of the desk will have a place inside it. Soon.

Sorta fun thing: my sister had a weed eater shipped to me. It snaps into a 4-wheeled case, so your shoulders don’t ache trying to keep the grass short. Rather than side-to-side arc-ing sweeps, the motion is identical to vacuuming. It’s battery operated, and I can do most of one-half of my front yard before the battery dies. There is a spare battery, thankfully. Between the rain (not enough lately) and the unbelievable heat, I don’t get a lot done. And I haven’t been able to even look at the backyard. But I’ll get there.

Being retired and demented, I often ponder the sweeter parts of my childhood. Like making my own kite, playing in a sandbox, that kind of thing. Seems like many kids these days are handed pieces of plastic and shown what they should make of them. I remember a story - true, I’m sure - of when some kids got a big present in a big cardboard box. They got bored with the present after half an hour or so, but played with the box the rest of the day.

This isn’t bragging, but when I was a kid, we played with mud and sticks a lot. Or the board ends Dad would bring home from the lumber yard. We had puppets and musical instruments, too. Put on plays. Made daisy chains with dandelions (maybe I should say “dandelion chains”. Played “red light, green light” at dusk. I can’t remember the rules anymore, but it was fun and kept us busy. One night, we were playing hide-and-seek at our cousins’ house in the city. I wedged myself into a narrow space between their house and back fence. I’m thinking the other kids gave up and/or forgot about me, as I hid there a long, long time. About the time I was about to come out, I peeked first, and there was my uncle in the driveway, kissing the neighbor lady. What a dick.

xox

Lucy