We’re all kinda like nesting dolls. 

Just another day, really, in this stretch of 90° [F] days (one week down, one more to go). 

New life comes from crotches. OK, I don’t think that’s universally valid. But my thought about humans (and other placental mammals) is that new life comes from the inside of existing bodies — we don’t sprout children off our fingers. We’re all kinda like nesting dolls. 

9:36 a.m. phone time. I had cereal and am sleepy already. I learned last night that Rob & Laura Petrie married in or soon after the war, and she was only 17! 2 DVD show episodes were on CBS last night, in honor of Carl Reiner’s death this week, I saw somewhere. 

Ah, f*** — my body felt stiff this morning. I’ve still got chafing. I didn’t feel like doing anything active yesterday. I read online and watched Youtubes while dog shivered on our bed (because of occasional firesworks). And I don’t know if I need to change something or what. I don’t feel depressed exactly, but maybe it’s a different kind of depression. A few minutes ago, as I colored above, I thought for some reason about going to Rhinelander, Wisc. I’m not sure why that place came [to mind]. 

I read at the DVD show page that Rob’s (I think it was his) mother didn’t like that Rob & Laura got married without telling their families. And so I looked up Carl Reiner — I hadn’t realized he’d been the creator of DVD show and that he’d based the Rob character on himself — and I see he married his wife, Estelle, in 1943. Carl’s wiki page says he was drafted in 1942 at about age 20. I was watching a History Channel thing (“WW2 in H.D.”) this morn and it said there was a draft before Pearl Harbor (I’m not sure exactly when it started) but it was for 21–30-year-olds. and yesterday I heard (on some Youtube vid?) that the average age of U.S. solders in WW2 was 26 — but U.S. soldiers in Vietnam were 19.

I just (at 10:09 a.m.) pulled a beetle out of my t-shirt, from between neck and left shoulder. I’ve already been out to catch falling beetles from birch tree. I went off deck so dog would go into grass and pee. He’d wanted out to deck but hadn’t left deck and wanted back in. I went out because I thought he might pee. 

[From journal of Sat., 4 July 2020, J327, page 71]