Pelicans

 September 7, 2021

Clouds over the coast, close and intimate, sky and sea and shore. Our kitchen sink clogged almost first thing, and after 5 calls, a plumber showed up. My distress confirmed to me that I have a mild cleanliness fixation. I couldn’t seem to take all that filthy water in stride. People remark that my house looks like nobody actually lives there. Anyway, the problem was shrimp shells someone (not us) had put down the disposal. The plumber and his assistant were an act, the (white) plumber aggressive and demanding and the (black) assistant subservient and apparently used to being treated as though he were stupid. Perhaps he is. But before the end of the session the plumber was jolly and explaining to me (as if I had remarked on their relationship, which I had not) that they had worked together forever and Larry was used to being treated that way and realized it was a sign of affection. Larry concurred.  The plumber has been divorced for 16 years and is dating a woman much taller than himself, whom he calls “the Amazon.” He and the Amazon will be renting this very unit for New Years. Larry poured the drained sink water into my bathtub, which immediately itself clogged, and I had to summon them back from the very door of the elevator to fix that additional problem. 

Flights of pelicans come over our balcony by night, heading mostly south. Last evening a hawk stood still in the air over us, training his keen eyes on the beach.