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ffloDid a lot of takin' care o' bidness this weekend. Not bad, all in all, and considering the veil of sadness/pointlessness that keeps wafting down and draping across me these now several days, despite my efforts to blow it up into the air far enough as to be able to dodge out from under it.
Yep, I upset quite a few cobs this morning, fer instance, when, having finished vacuuming out the lint place in the dryer (as a first step in treating the "dryer not drying efficiently," per troubleshooting tips), I sucked up a number of their (cobs') intricate creations in the basement. They'll rebuild, like so many Florida hurricane victims; I hope to prove a more consistently tormenting natural disaster for them henceforth.
Trimmed back the trumpet vine, after failing with concoction of bleach, detergent, and H2O to remove remaining deck stains (not mildew after all). Plan now to go ahead and put down finish/seal tomorrow, finally, on all but the railings. Got some mail ready to go. Went into the office for a bit, anticipating time off tomorrow. Gave Arthur a ride to Sweetwater's---that was cool. He ---well, I don't even know how to say it. I like him. But there's little chance of describing him here decently in a mere few words, let alone delineating my intense affection for him.
Did some other stuff, too, today and yesterday. Sore. Tired. Have the rest of Topper in the other room waiting for me.
I know I have, at some points in my life, found a kind of contentment bordering on pleasure at competantly chuggin' along, taking care of what needs to be taken care of, matter-of-fact, humdrum mundane solid good mensch-y adult responsible ---competant. That pleasure is so mild as to be hard to detect in the presence of the pleasure of another's company; it certainly doesn't begin to compare to the joy of companionship with a loved, compatible partner. Even a true heart connection with a dog would likely drown it out. 'Course a dog coulda "helped" me trim back bushes in the flowerboxes off the deck, and that'd be kind of a combo, so maybe there could be something there.
Are they still called flowerboxes when they're kinda big? I was out there climbing on 'em, reaching into the prickliness with the loppers (thanks again,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
lovelikeyeast & p for those), feeling all competant with my legs and arms and body, even though my back was already sore from yesterday's powerwashing & walk to the library/Kroger's, and today's ladder work with the big pole tree trimmer. It wasn't exactly Maja climbing me, but there was a moment when I looked up and realized I'd been forgetting that I'm old now.
I'm sure I'll remember tomorrow.
(Hey,bigfinedaddy and onstar---are we gonna do us some trees at yer place soon?)
Yep, I upset quite a few cobs this morning, fer instance, when, having finished vacuuming out the lint place in the dryer (as a first step in treating the "dryer not drying efficiently," per troubleshooting tips), I sucked up a number of their (cobs') intricate creations in the basement. They'll rebuild, like so many Florida hurricane victims; I hope to prove a more consistently tormenting natural disaster for them henceforth.
Trimmed back the trumpet vine, after failing with concoction of bleach, detergent, and H2O to remove remaining deck stains (not mildew after all). Plan now to go ahead and put down finish/seal tomorrow, finally, on all but the railings. Got some mail ready to go. Went into the office for a bit, anticipating time off tomorrow. Gave Arthur a ride to Sweetwater's---that was cool. He ---well, I don't even know how to say it. I like him. But there's little chance of describing him here decently in a mere few words, let alone delineating my intense affection for him.
Did some other stuff, too, today and yesterday. Sore. Tired. Have the rest of Topper in the other room waiting for me.
I know I have, at some points in my life, found a kind of contentment bordering on pleasure at competantly chuggin' along, taking care of what needs to be taken care of, matter-of-fact, humdrum mundane solid good mensch-y adult responsible ---competant. That pleasure is so mild as to be hard to detect in the presence of the pleasure of another's company; it certainly doesn't begin to compare to the joy of companionship with a loved, compatible partner. Even a true heart connection with a dog would likely drown it out. 'Course a dog coulda "helped" me trim back bushes in the flowerboxes off the deck, and that'd be kind of a combo, so maybe there could be something there.
Are they still called flowerboxes when they're kinda big? I was out there climbing on 'em, reaching into the prickliness with the loppers (thanks again,
lovelikeyeast & p for those), feeling all competant with my legs and arms and body, even though my back was already sore from yesterday's powerwashing & walk to the library/Kroger's, and today's ladder work with the big pole tree trimmer. It wasn't exactly Maja climbing me, but there was a moment when I looked up and realized I'd been forgetting that I'm old now.I'm sure I'll remember tomorrow.
(Hey,
bigfinedaddy and onstar---are we gonna do us some trees at yer place soon?)
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Flowerboxes, Schmowerboxes
Date: Oct. 11th, 2004 06:48 am (UTC)Old PiJ superstition--leave a few webs up (inconspicuously) when you clean them out. I read somewhere once that in China they're considered good luck and hold your house together. Spidies are just good creatures, anyway.
Re: Flowerboxes, Schmowerboxes
Date: Oct. 11th, 2004 07:46 am (UTC)Re: Flowerboxes, Schmowerboxes
Date: Oct. 11th, 2004 08:11 am (UTC)Thank Goddess for that!
no subject
Date: Oct. 11th, 2004 06:54 am (UTC)no subject
Date: Oct. 11th, 2004 07:47 am (UTC)