We’re having another spell of triple-digit temps. Planning a swim for tomorrow evening since the water should be nice then. At that time I wouldn’t expect many other people to be there either. 

I’ve been working hard throughout the week so I am making a point of having a leisurely weekend. I still did some work, including on my book as well as the laundry. 

We should know more about the good news I haven’t made public by the end of next month. It’s not so much that it won’t happen but more of a question of how. 

Tom’s going to spend the weekend coding the app. It’s one of those things that’s either going to make us money or it’s not. He’s going to be the coder and I’m going to be the tester as well as the one that comes up with a lot of the ideas, suggestions and details to design and function. He realizes that despite the limited time he has with all the hours he works, the only way to get it done is to just do it. 

It’s a lot like writing a book. It’s very hard work and you probably won’t make a dime at it no matter how good your story and writing may be. But you either write it or you don’t. It’s that simple. 

My parents were alive in my dreams last night and I went to live with them. They seemed like they were in their 50s and 60s. We lived in a long ranch-style house with a bedroom at each end. My parents were watching TV in the living room in the center of the house and my mother, who sat further into the room while my dad sat by the doorway, ordered me to be quiet. But I couldn’t help but point out when the news came on that I lived less than a minute away from this house where a murder took place in another state. 

Then it was nighttime and my parents were out somewhere. I entered my bedroom to find one of my figurines facing backward. I figured my nosy mother had been checking it out. I giggled to myself at how pissed I used to be as a kid when she’d nose around in my shit, but I didn’t care anymore what she did. 

Then I went out into the kitchen when I suddenly became aware of a few voices. I heard two or three people talking and an occasional peel of laughter. I walked down the hallway and into my parents’ semi-darkened bedroom. Straight across the room from the doorway was a window. I looked out and into the backyard next to us to find three adults chatting. I was glad that wasn’t my bedroom.