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It was hot today, face-sliding-off-the-front-of-your-head-and-into-your-lap hot. Still is, here on the third floor. I washed the blanket that hangs over the back of our couch, which gave me an excuse to be elbow-deep in cold water for a while, and weeded and turned over the garden. "We don't have a garden," ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
adfamiliares said at dinner. "What did you really do today?" But we do — it's a six-by-two strip of dirt by the back fence. By hacking and digging and yanking I removed a good armload of weeds and rooty shrublets, and wound up sweaty and dirty enough that I could justify another shower. We're going to plant basil, mint, parsley, maybe some tomatoes and peppers. I'm shopping around for some of those wriggly green crystals from James and the Giant Peach.
I'm slowly reconstructing my habits, like a spider rebuilding its web after a storm. Café Nation is proving to be a fine replacement for Uncommon Grounds — iced mint chip lattés are probably going to be a staple this summer — and a few days ago I had the happy experience of prodding what I feared was the stiffening corpse of the novel and watching it instead sit up, blink, and ask where I'd been for the past month. Problems that had seemed intractable now have obvious solutions; time away helped clear up some myopia I'd been having. And the monks acquired backstories when I wasn't looking.
I finally picked up the guitar today, too, though I was confounded twice on the way there: today by the need to solder a wire that had come loose in my tuner, and yesterday by an injured pinky finger. (Tip: be careful putting your shirt on in the morning if there is a ceiling fan whizzing overhead.) I sat in the shade on the back porch while the neighbors lived their various evening lives in the backyards below me, and felt pretty content to be here.
Tomorrow's heat is supposed to be a repeat of today's. If that's so, I may use the free pass I got when the digital projector for Pirates III crashed and find something to keep me air conditioned for two hours.
adfamiliares said at dinner. "What did you really do today?" But we do — it's a six-by-two strip of dirt by the back fence. By hacking and digging and yanking I removed a good armload of weeds and rooty shrublets, and wound up sweaty and dirty enough that I could justify another shower. We're going to plant basil, mint, parsley, maybe some tomatoes and peppers. I'm shopping around for some of those wriggly green crystals from James and the Giant Peach.I'm slowly reconstructing my habits, like a spider rebuilding its web after a storm. Café Nation is proving to be a fine replacement for Uncommon Grounds — iced mint chip lattés are probably going to be a staple this summer — and a few days ago I had the happy experience of prodding what I feared was the stiffening corpse of the novel and watching it instead sit up, blink, and ask where I'd been for the past month. Problems that had seemed intractable now have obvious solutions; time away helped clear up some myopia I'd been having. And the monks acquired backstories when I wasn't looking.
I finally picked up the guitar today, too, though I was confounded twice on the way there: today by the need to solder a wire that had come loose in my tuner, and yesterday by an injured pinky finger. (Tip: be careful putting your shirt on in the morning if there is a ceiling fan whizzing overhead.) I sat in the shade on the back porch while the neighbors lived their various evening lives in the backyards below me, and felt pretty content to be here.
Tomorrow's heat is supposed to be a repeat of today's. If that's so, I may use the free pass I got when the digital projector for Pirates III crashed and find something to keep me air conditioned for two hours.
