The light's starting to dim out there. It was fleeingly wistfully fall-bright on the orange leaves still hanging on to Bert's front yard tree; my trees are the first on the street to lose their leaves, and maybe his is the last. Well there's that oak the city planted that Roberta tried to kill but it was super-hardy, and leafed, as we went into last winter.
It's been breezy in an autumnal way today. Big banks of clouds moving at pretty good clip through the sky. You can smell that it's not just a summer day, and, it seems to me too, that the warm spell is about to be pushed aside.
I wore seersucker, in honor of the weather.
Didn't shy away from the red-white-'n'-blue, when first grabbing this thin library T-shirt, then realizing the combo.
"Seersucker" has "sugar" in it. It goes back to 1722, from Hindi , East Indian corruption of Persian "striped cloth," literally "milk and sugar," a reference to the alternately smooth and puckered surfaces of the stripes. From Persian (cognate with Sanskrit "milk") + (cognate with Pali , Sanskrit "gravel, grit, sugar;" see sugar (n.)). Thanks, etymoology online.
And I thought it was about the texture, at heart!
After way too much Zoom for one day, I did head to Gallup and hobbled to my special tree-fort tree, depositing a penny again to see if it makes it through winter. I can never find pennies from previous years, and wonder whether they've been absorbed by the tree, in the big crevices of its chunky bark.
My sandals then had gunk in them, and are too hard to get back on to try to clean out on a bench at the park. Besides, I wanted to enjoy the waning day inside, with the cats and the windows all open. They love it and I love it. We agree. This stretch has been a real boon, and a boost during the anxious post-election times.
So much lately my therapist is pointing out how hard I'm being on myself. It feels inevitable lately. Longer paragraph truncated here to this final size.
We're absolutely forbidden to work tomorrow, and we must use at least a tomorrow's worth of leave, and not make it up. Longer paragraph truncated here too!
My plan for tomorrow, at this point, is to do laundry (masks, at least), partly to test whether the dryer is failing or trying to start a fire; to pay bills; and to touch up the now-pink cabinet doors for the sector of the kitchen I did 'em for. All that'll be left after that, for those, is to reattach the hardware and put 'em back in place. Some climbing is involved in that, and of course more than half the kitchen isn't dealt with that way yet, but it's something.
My knees have been killing me since I mulched on Saturday and Sunday. Pain is hard. But the leaves are chomped up.
It's twilight now. Little chirpy sounds out there, and some distant rumbling that may be traffic, sound carrying funny. Gonna wait to close up the windows until a little past when I probably should.
It's like (some) camp; or remembering junior high with the windows open in Bill Smith, my freshman year in college, after the high school with no opening windows; or somebody's grandmother's house. Windows on all sides. We didn't so much have windows open in my family of origin. This is yet another way I depart from family traditions.
oops, didn't post this yesterday
posting it now