1) When, at 6:30 AM, I realized I wanted to remain in bed with my . . . unhappiness . . . instead of starting the day, I burrowed further into the comfortable sheets and let how my body felt in the bed win over the wakefulness in my head. But that could not be a sustainable solution.
1a) Depression “strikes like a thief in the night,” as Miriam Hopkins describes her (fictional) headache in The Heiress. Suffice it to say that this was a low-energy day, whether I was in the pool or my bed.
2) After lunch I had snuggled back into bed with Kate, resisting invitations to go grocery shopping . . . until the prospect of chocolate jolted me into my clothes. Chocolate can alter your mood even when it’s only the prospect of chocolate!
3) So in the middle of the afternoon, when I imagined all good Palm Springers would be cowering at home with their a/c, we were out and about in the heat. First stop, the library to check out some DVDs. I noticed the warning sign which said something like “In the event of an earthquake, do not shelter in the stacks, but get under the tables in the center of the room.”
3a) There was also a very odd gentleman, dressed for a marathon, who appeared to be running it within the library with a crabbed gait. I had to wonder just what was going on with him.
4) At Ralph’s (the supermarket), the cashier turned out to be a native of Worcester, Mass., so that was a nice interaction. The New England diaspora grows!
5) My mood was not lifting, but after an attempt at a nap I sat in the shade near the pool reading Kate, and experiencing the heat and the breeze — the sight and sound of the wind in the neighbor’s cluster of palm trees. And it was beautiful.
6) We three spent the cocktail hour in the pool (I made manhattans with orange bitters), lined up at the edge reading, which was kind of funny. But I finally finished Kate. (Spoiler alert: she dies in the end.) Quite an interesting read — a woman devoted to control of her own narrative.
7) For dinner we drove to Il Corso, a delectable Italian restaurant with very high ceilings and a good vibe. We observed a protest in favor of democracy for Venezuela at one intersection, which looked like several dozen people.
7a) An exquisite dinner for me: pomodori e burrata salad (basically a cubed insalata caprese), pappardelle norcina, and a succulent chocolate cake. Only after I’d ordered did I think that choosing a spotless white linen shirt was probably not the wisest choice when ordering pasta. But I passed the test! Otherwise I might have left looking like Jackson Pollock’s mother . . .
7b) The waiter brought a spoon for the pasta, but I have learned that that is not correct because it isn’t what is done in Actual Italy. And again, I passed the test!
8) Leaving the restaurant, the sparkling pure white full moon made me think of “Ist Ein Traum” from the finale of Der Rosenkavalier.
8a) Floating in the pool afterwards, mellow from my meal, the addition of the moon to the oak trees and the monolith fountain made me think of it as a stage setting for some forgotten opera (see photo at top). A sacred rite, a secret meeting of lovers, a murder, a poet in despair — all of this heightened by the landscape lights boldly lighting the big oak tree. But instead of opera, I found myself humming “I Loves You Porgy” and channeling Ella Fitzgerald.
9) Hopeful that tonight’s big dinner and musical speculations lay the foundation for a beautiful day tomorrow.