Feb. 18th, 2017

sartorias: (handwritten books)
Many thanks for the good wishes! We're fine. The leaks are slowing. We'll find out if the condo association is responsible for fixing them, and if not, they join the very long list of repairs waiting until we get the debt load below five figures. (Assuming that ever happens.) It's not like it's going to rain like that again for another twenty years.

So the rain tamed early last night, though my cell phone blared twice about flash floods, and then pinged about a severe thunderstorm warning for the next hour. I never even saw lightning, so it must have sailed north of us, going squarely east.

I got our fresh matches (I always have flashlights around in case of midnight quakes that take out the power, but those are for escaping a crumbling house) and candles, in case, but unneeded.

I try to be mindful, but really, I can be such a clueless dork when it comes to certain kinds of habits. Like, I keep wearing the same two ragged cotton long sleeve shirts that constitute my home winter wear, because usually, we have maybe five or six mildly cold days of "winter" a year. We've had lots of cold days now, which I do relish, but last night even I felt cold when the temp plummeted, and my shirts were both waiting for a turn at the washer. (The heater has been broken for years, and I keep the windows wide open, so whatever it is out there is the same in here). And it STILL didn't occur to me until I woke up this morning that hey, all those nice long pants and sleeved shirts that I take back east each October, and never get to wear the rest of the year because they're too hot? I can put them on right here!

I feel as stupid as the day when I was around fifty, and realized I actually did not have to go downstairs to the bathroom there to get a single sheet of tissue to blow my nose every time I needed one while in the grip of a nasty cold. I could have tissues up here, of my own. Even if a pattern of authoritarian behavior has not been repeated for years--decades--its shadow has a long, long reach. Especially if you're an oblivious walk-into-a-wall like me.

Well, more tea, and more gleeful ripping apart of a project and doing a Frankenstein's monster restitch. It's so much fun to tear out wads of prose and toss it all.

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