bunt sign

Saturday, November 22, 2008

In this era of downsizing and lowered expectations, Iím content to take my accomplishments in small doses. I donít want a parade or anything, but today (finally) I cleared all the old Amazon and Monavie boxes out of my bedroom. Broke íem down and hauled íem out to the recycle bin (where they will wait an extra day, because thereís a holiday next week). Itís a stretch even to call it an accomplishment, unless you compare this Saturday with every other Saturday for the last several months. Something beats nothing, if not by much.

I came close to bagging the whole meager project, because the band-aid Iíve been wearing on my finger for the last few days fell off, and I didnít want to expose the open wound to the cardboard edges with all their menace. Itís nice to be able to get that hand wet again, and there doesnít seem to be any lasting damage. I can still see the skin flap, but it hasnít bothered me since itís been uncovered. I think I can put this whole episode (cutting it on the sharp edge of a manila folder and nearly passing out) behind me.

One good thing about actually doing something is that it kept me warm on another chilly day. For most of this past week when we didnít see the sun all day (reason enough for hiding myself away and not posting here), and the nights have been down near freezing. It felt good to be able to peel off my sweatshirt while working on the boxes this afternoon. Not good enough to make me keep going, or try to think of another chore for tomorrow, but still. Pretty good.




22 November 2008

Sunset clouds.



Unfortunately, the sweatshirt didnít stay off for long. Iíve been wearing it almost constantly for a week or more, and bundling under my afghan every evening. It didnít take much exposure for me to think that Iíd had enough refreshing cold air. They tell us weíre in for a long, cold, dry spell, which means that even though itís winter, weíre not getting the reservoirs filled and the mountains packed with the snow we need to get through another summer. Whatís the use in suffering if thereís no reward at the end? I just finished reading a book like that, and I had to ask myself whether Iíd wasted all the time I put into it.




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