It boggles my teeny brain that August has disappeared, September sneaking stealthily in, Labor Day come and nearly gone. The kind of teeny-brain boggling that leaves me staring at the calendar, blinking in confusion. It was, after all, just June. Or so it seems to my feeble gray matter.
This morning: the big summer-ending third installment of the three-day weekend. Me with the whole day ahead, nothing planned except, er, nothing. Thinking about geting productive, starting to lay insulation up in the crawlspace. (In other houses, it might be an attic -- here it's a crawlspace, with maybe 30 inches of space beneath the roof's peak. Cramped, dusty, no lights or outlets. Just the place I want to pass a holiday morning.)
And after a bit of thought, what do you know? Silly, virtuous me actually drags himself out of warm, comfortable bed, pulls on work clothes, girds self for pure fun. Grabbed a so-big-it's-got-to-be-a-symbol-for-manly-endowment flashlight, pulled on a dust mask. Climbed up a stepladder, popped open the crawlspace port (9" by 30"), slithered up into the darkness. What followed: pure madcap entertainment, sweat streaming down, me flopping about beneath the roof, taking measurements and scoping out the layout to get an idea of the kind of joy that awaits in the many hours of home improvement that lay ahead. After two hours of bliss, I slither back down through the port, with a pretty clear idea of the next steps that need to be taken. Go directly outside, shake off dust and old fibreglass, resolve to take the rest of the day off.
Meanwhile, outside: overcast rules for the second straight day. Cool temperatures, everything damp from rain. And apart from the occasional brief break in the clouds, no sunshine. I don't know what it is, but these days the lack of sun can really impact my frame of mind. Might be from spending all that time in Madrid, where sunlight generally abounds. Or it could simply be that my tolerance, even enjoyment, for gray days has simply decreased with time. Whatever the reasons, I find myself longing for blue skies and celestial radiance. The liars in the local weather biz claim the sky will begin clearing real damn soon. that would be most excellent.
And speaking of Madrid, fairly suddenly developments may mean that I'll be heading back there in a couple of months. Part of me breathes a big sigh of relief at the thought.
Time will tell. I assume nothing until arrangements become concrete.
In the meantime, the evening awaits.
Later.
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Labor Day weekend, northern Vermont:
España, te echo de menos.
rws 6:47 PM [+]
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