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Sunday, July 16, 2006 In recent days, I've found myself slipping into the altered state I experience during summer in these parts. A sensation of well-being and slightly drowsy tranquility brought on by immersion in beautiful weather, lush, green Vermont countryside, and the relaxed summer soundtrack of birds singing and the occasional sound of a car passing out on the dirt road or on the two-lane down in the valley. Every now and then I realize we're halfway through July, a momentary jolt (understandable, given that the warm season didn't really arrive here until June gave way to July) lasting until I remember there's nothing to be done about it except enjoy the show. A strange aspect of this time of year: I find myself getting up earlier, at least when I'm on this side of the Atlantic. Far too early (though nowhere near as early as many locals). Logical, I guess -- on a day like today, when the wetblankets in the local weather biz are busy predicting big heat/humidity, the cool and quiet produced by morning fog that often starts the day in this area seems like a good thing to get up and enjoy. My eyes open around 6 or 7, I get up to dump the ballast, see the green, hushed world outside, find myself heading toward the kitchen instead of back to the bedroom once the morning quick weight-loss routine is finished. And then it burns off, the thousand shades of green grow brighter, blue sky spreads itself out overhead. With the warm season's return, I've reclaimed the two big rooms that get closed down during the cold weather, and have undertaken to use them better, turning one into a big workspace. Which has gotten me gradually clearing the piles of work material out of the dining room, the default work place up to now. Creating a big space to do things like, er, dine. Sit and read, listening to music or to the summertime soundtrack drifting in through open windows. I'm liking it so much that it's got me thinking seriously about taking on the work that would be required to turn the two big rooms into year-round living space -- bulking up the overhead insulation (currently a few inches of cellulose blown in by previous owners, nowhere near effective enough for real life in this part of the world), figuring out some approach for insulation on or below the floor, maybe handing over the shekels to get insulating shades for the windows. Blah blah blah. You get the idea. Not exactly my idea of a great time, though the result would feel just fine. Having a real kitchen/dining area means that on mornings like this, I find myself making a genuine breakfast, sitting at the dining table with it, reading. Feeling that strange, tranquil sense of well-being, the day outside moving at its own pace. Hours that usually race by drift along, I find myself strangely at peace with this world, my life. Not a bad place to be. As I write this, I see it's only midday. Time to move on, see what I feel like doing with myself. España, te echo de menos. rws 12:00 PM [+]
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