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2002-06-30 | 11:38 p.m.

It is my vacation, the only vacation I am likely to get, and all I want to do is putter around the house. That's not my usual m.o. But it was bloody hot today and no point in running around. After it started to cool off (to 88 degrees) Diane came by and we washed and waxed the filthy van while Jasper slept. After we washed it, the bird of paradise stopped by and shat on the front windshield, eliciting a torrent of abuse from my bird-hating sister. She told me about the time, back in the Eisenhower years, when a bird shit on her just pin-curled hair, and about the time a bird shit in her ear (but missed her hair entirely). After she wiped off the bird shit, she called me over to look at the oily blue star it had left on the windshield.

I asked Diane to come help me because she is a few inches taller than me (yes, I do resent it) and has a longer reach than me, which is useful for doing the top of the van. Also, maybe, because it is something that our father liked to do, and it feels like...I don't know. I don't want to say a family tradition. There's just something about it.

She was disappointed in my wax application, and took pains to correct my form. Even though I only asked her over to help me do the top, she ended up finishing the whole thing, because I was sitting on the stoop, in a stupor, if you will, or maybe it was a torpor. All I know for sure is that I could barely move, my mouth was hanging open, and I was practically drooling on myself.

Actually, I still am, so I will go to bed now. Jasper is trying to figure out if he is still the sort of person who takes naps. The naps are losing the debate, but it means he's falling asleep at 6 p.m. each night--which puts him up around daybreak.

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