Ophélie Lechat

I spent a good part of today lying on a blanket, picnic-style, in my hallway, enjoying the crossbreeze from my open front and back porch doors. The weather here has been hot and humid, so hot it’s hard to concentrate. I have found myself at the local malls more than I like to admit, simply for the pleasure of an air-conditioned stroll through the sales racks.

Yesterday brought rain, a crazy downpour complete with gusting winds and lightning. I stepped out of the hair salon where I had been hiding out, avoiding the dreaded walk to the metro, and noticed that the rain wasn’t even cold. Stepping in puddles felt oddly like a warm foot bath.  People on the metro stared at the soaking-wet girl, wondering if it was a cool-down technique.

I weighted my options for today: step out into that muggy outdoors, make the trek to the coffee shop and spend my hard-earned cash on iced-lattés in the relative comfort of a cool, crowded room, or stay home, lie on the floor and drink lots of water?

I stayed home and embroidered.

Haven’t you heard? Embroidery’s the new knitting, at least for me, while I wait for the surgery that will make my wrists pain-free. I’ve embroidered flowers to hang on my wall, matching pillowcases that I’ll be too afraid to use (Delilah the cat likes to chew through bed linens) and I’m working on something summery.

Unlike knitting, embroidered linens and decorations don’t really have a purpose: they won’t keep me warm, I can’t wear them to work. Still, it’s an enjoyable way to occupy my hands while listening to yet another episode of This American Life.