In the country, the heat circulates throughout the day and by evening has rolled off along the lake. I open the windows and sliding doors wide while the breezes and the low thrumming vibration of the heron come in off the water. We cook easy dinner- pasta and sauce from a jar- and eat out of bowls with our heads tilted back against the couch, eyes closed, chewing. I imagine that I have a big pregnant belly to rest my bowl on. It's ok that there's endless research and writing to do, it's ok that the newspaper is trashy, it's ok that the grape juice I like best has corn syrup.
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