Back to the cool

Part of the joy of living in San Francisco is returning to the city from somewhere else, especially if it's summer and you've just been to a sweaty locale. New York's had worse heat waves, but it felt plenty hot 'n humid to me, especially last Friday when there was some kind of "ozone alert." I took that to mean the air pollution was particularly bad, a fact my eyes attested to. They got so red and swollen I had to take my contact lenses out for the duration. (Typically, I blamed myself: I'm still getting accustomed to the soft "extended wear"-type lenses. But on second thought, I think it was the bad air.) No wonder there are so many advertisements for spas, plastic surgeons and beauty treatments of various kinds -- the air is filthy, at least at times during the summer.

So coming back to San Francisco (I missed a local mini heat wave -- the only kind we ever have -- while on the east coast) and waking up to cool, sunny weather is fabulous. The yellow hills are like lemon cakes with a frosting of fog, and the garden is brilliant with flowers and greenery. Out my back window I can see the grapefruit rees in the neighbors' yards. It's so beautiful.

Today I have little to do but errands and chores. My next writing mini-project will be to put together a twenty page synopsis of my novel for the agent whose name I got from a fellow writer at Holden Village. Once that's done I can work on incorporating edits from Dina, whom I gave the latest version of the novel to just before leaving for New York. She's supposed to flag "redundancies" and anything else that jumps out at her. Then, finally, I can work on groundwork for my next book, which I've decided will be a modern-day exploration of alienation as lived in the softwear industry and in the paranoid canyons of the desert.