Journal_029

days like today where the humidity is so intense and the air so dense that you feel swollen. The low pressure ignites thoughts and tension. Living by the beach it’s an ever larger feeling of environmental gain and strain and wind and salt and the smells of the ocean and the waves and the wet sand and the cold crisp warm arm cutting through you like fall fall fall fall. roses mums zinnias cosmos potato vine basil herbs still thriving vines growing in opposite corners of the yard. One is wild, one I planted as a bulb. Small pumpkisn and gourds, dried cornstalks flanking the front door, I tucked a withered sunflower into the twine, I want to remember to do the same with some roses. Dry them out and tuck them into the cornstalks. Roses blooming everywhere in the neighborhood right now, their delicate petals getting whipped by the salty wind. Patti Smith is playing, Joe is next to me writing an email. Joseph is down. We vacuumed. Worked at the store all day yesterday, saw asome familiar faces, some new ones too. I helped a woman tie a small garbage can to her bike with string. She was bringing it down to her son’s new apartment in Seaside. She was cool, wild red hair poking out from underneath a sun bleached neon green bandana. An oversized tie dye tee shirt, cargo shorts, and nail beds crusted with dirt. She said she was slowly bringing small things to his apartment, moving things each time she went, “they had their plates all the way across from the sink!” – her son and his friend just turned 21 and are close to the bars, “at least they don’t have to drive home” … they have two dogs, one is her “grand doggy” that she will walk and take care of as well.. his room mate has a 4 week old pitbull “from a box in Brooklyn”, she wasn’t weaned from her mother or siblings but luckily she can walk with her son’s dog. Anyway, she was cool. Carol came in, Elaine came in with her mother, Grace. One woman came in and ran to the cardinal birdfeeder. Clutching it, she told Joe and I about her and her daughter’s thing with the bird. That when her father died her daughter she saw a hawk every day in the same spot and thought it was him.. then when hermother died the daughter started getting visits from a cardinal. So now that’s her grammy. The mother scoffed it off, but was clutching this bird feeder, telling us the story in a semi manic way, it was endearing, yet made me sad for her. That’s what I love about the store, these little moments with people. John came in, my mom came in with Joseph, we made a bunch of avocado toast, drank iced coffee (I actually want some now, damnit)… some bagels with cream cheese, and butter, a Standard shake … two young kids came in and were so happy we had bagels, they were cute, bickering at each other, brother and sister. 1x everything toasted with butter, 2x plain, not toasted, with butter. I was thinking yesterday, making bagels, how happy I am to live in NJ because of bagels. I LOVE BAGELS. Ok I really have to shower. The wind is whipping in the window on my fair and my hair is so wild, my skin is covered in dew, you can barely close the doors its all expanded. I texted my mom “Its so humid I want to scream”, she says “I would say it is 100% humidity. Basically you are underwater ..in the water. Something like that” –

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