The Feminists: My New Puddle-Like State

Last night there was a wicked storm. Suddenly there was darkness, sheets of rain, a powerful wind, lightning and thunder, the works. The temperature never dropped from the cloying heat of mid-afternoon. So it was very warm, with a hot wind and pouring rain. And pitch black dark. Imagine someone throwing a hot, wet, heavy blanket over you and then telling you to relax and go to sleep.
We were hunkered down in the van, and instantaneously all of our bedding and clothes were warm and damp. Mike and I were up…well, awake, sort of, by 6:45 am. Even my clean clothes were damp and slimy. After a few desperate cups of coffee in the Kingston Husky restaurant, Ferdy and I headed into town to get an Internet fix. Mike and Grief stayed behind to dry our sleeping bags, blankets, and jackets. They took over the laundry room and set up a table and chairs and enjoyed a thrilling game of Magic The Gathering while everything dried out. It poured rain all day and the temperature climbed mercilessly. By midafternoon I had resigned myself to my new puddle-like state. It was too hot to wear a jacket. There was nowhere to dry out.
We drove to a truck stop outside of Oshawa, where our next show is. The lovely green bedroom at Grant and Kathryns is now a distant memory.