Nothing much to say this morning as I suit up in the former work togs to continue fixing the house problems that never end. It's been raining non-stop for a couple of days. We did have brief sunshine in there for a minute. The garage roof is still leaking, 'cause it's never dry enough to re-tar; eaves troughs are clogged again; painting the porch steps is an annual chore; repaired the drip in bathroom sink but can't do the tub one without shutting off the entire water supply; and we discovered a humming nest of carpenter ants in the laundry room last night. No matter what gets fixed on a house this old, something takes its place. It's not that I hate renovation, as many of these jobs are fun to me (I know, shades of insanity). What I do begrudge is taking precious, finite time away from creativity of beautiful things.
Thoreau was correct in his observation that property owns you. But I take solace in the fact that I'm not the most inane person. There was a street sweeper out there this morning - in the rain. Dumbest use of time I've seen today. Did I mention it took 3 men to operate 1 truck?
Monday, January 11, 2010
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