I'm writing this by the harsh glow of the computer screen, staring hard at the keyboard to see letters through the gloom. It is 10:47am in my apartment and there is almost no light.
Why, you ask?
Because this week the sun is our enemy, coming as it does with heat that has shattered records all over BC, dryness that has sparked innumerable fires and forced us to flee inside from its burning rage. So there are blankets over the windows of our west-facing apartment, fans going full-tilt, fish floating sadly in a too-hot tank. I know how they feel.
When I got home from my tour (more on that later), J had put tinfoil in the windows to keep out the heat. My suburban middle-class what-will-the-neighbours-think hackles rose immediately. "I'm sorry, but I don't think I can live in a place with tinfoil on the windows," I whined. "It looks so awful." After a few more pleas, he sulkily removed it, and the heavy blankets went up instead.
We moved our social life into the bathroom last night: pool-less as we are, our tub was a decent substitute. A few candles 'round the sink, Latino music on the radio, a pitcher of Mojitos resting on the toilet... and the two of us- neither one a small person by any means- crammed naked in a cold-water bath together. Not a pretty picture but hey, needs must when it's thirty frickin' degrees outside!!! It's either that, or wear this stylish tinfoil hat to keep out the rays...
On a related note, the latest Redboot tour was short and sweet and really fun, although we had to cram a whole load of driving (15+ hours) into one day to get up north to our festival. A/C blasting, CBC on the radio, our bass player reading great chunks of a novel aloud to us to pass the time. Set a new record for the furthest north in BC I've ever travelled- Kispiox, we love you! And since it seems to be the day to post weird pictures of me, here's another one:
Lastly, I want to write about something that has haunted me every day for the past week, although it doesn't fit with the goofy tone of the rest of this entry. Last Thursday, some wonderful members of our theatre community lost their children in a horrific accident. Although J & I know them, have worked with them in the past, we don't know them very well and this is not my tragedy, so I'm not going to write much about it here. I will only say that the news hit me like a punch to the gut, and if it hit me like that, I can only imagine how their friends and family must feel. How they themselves feel, I don't even want to imagine. To witness the web of love and support for these people that has sprung up across the country has been amazing, and I can only add my prayers for strength and recovery to the hundreds of others.