Journal of a Sabbatical

July 4, 1999


hot hot hot




July 4, 1999
Watchemoket Cove
East Providence, RI

3 great egrets
1 snowy egret
1 double-crested cormorant
1 American crow
22 mute swans
26 Canada geese
1 house sparrow
2 common terns

 

 

Today's Starting Pitcher: Bret Saberhagen

Today's Reading: The Feather Quest by Pete Dunne

1999 Booklist

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Copyright © 1999, Janet I. Egan


The heat continues in the 90's today. More humid than yesterday. Since Nancy has the beeper this weekend, we had to stick close to Providence and it was way too humid to do much outside anyway. Lifting a venti iced chai latte caused me to break a sweat. Besides seeking air conditioned restaurants and coffee shops, we drove around in my (somewhat) air conditioned car looking at gardens full of hostas, day lilies, roses, pink things, blue things, yellow things, and of course blue hydrangeas.

Since we cut our visit to the cove short last night when we realized the parking area and the street around it were filling up with cars from which people intended to watch the East Providence fireworks, we returned today. The egrets that I expected to be perched in the trees at sunset last night were perched in the trees in mid-afternoon today. Well, some of them. One of them was wading near some rocks next to the bike path. The terns were around today too, which they weren't last night. The mallards have become invisible though. Must be the haze.

We retreated to the air conditioned haven of the Thayer Street Starbucks and slurped iced chai as we read the Sunday Providence Journal, and deconstructed Brian Rose's pitching performance yesterday. According to the sports pages, the pitching coach really lit into him after his two glaring mental mistakes yesterday. Gee, they only cost 4 runs... But today Saberhagen held 'em and the boys in red,white, and blue were able to win with what amounted to a Triple-A lineup in the infield with Nomar Garciaparra on the bench hurt.




I can see fireworks from my window here: white spirals, orange and green starbursts, things that whistle... Wilbur hates the whistling noise. He flattens his ears and stares out the window with intent to attack. Then the really loud ones from Lawrence stadium start booming and he hides under the futon.




From the BiB diary, some reflections on the 4th:

It is 8:30 PM Saturday night, on the 4th of July weekend. Of course I am spending it just like most normal Americans, in a war torn country thousands of miles away. If I stop and think about it, the whole idea is pretty far out there, so I do not spend a lot of time thinking about it. Many people in the states would think I am nuts, but I love my job. Many hours of hard work but we get to see progress and help make things better.

Tonight when I got back, they had a young Macedonian man that was cutting hair, he did mine ( not too bad actually) and he spoke broken English and told me that he had learned it all from the movies. He went on to say that he was impressed by American movies and that countries like Macedonia did not have enough money to produce them. He also talked about peace and that he has vowed that as long as he lives he will never have any enemies. He told me that Macedonia wants America to be a friend and that they love having us here and feel very glad to help and also to be protected from the Savage up north.

Hey this haircut thing is going around, first Nancy, then me, now Bobby... next thing you know the kids will get their hair cut...