The number of things I need to do around the house are piling up again. I need to mulch the driveway and the beds. I'm going to try to do that this weekend. Need to call the mulch people and have that big truckload of mulch delivered. I have to buy a wheelbarrow. Mine rusted through. I've looked and I can't find another like it. The consumer's world is going to shit, I'll say.
Before I take any trips, I'll need to stain/paint the new deck and the stairs to the apartment. Sounds easier than it is. It will take me at least two days. I also need to try to touch up some paint on the house. I'll need to get someone to replace the threshold at the apartment, I think. I'll YouTube it, but that is not my bailey wig. I need to put screens up over the vents in the attic (wasps are building nests), and I need to fix the vents that go under the house to keep out the varmints.
These are things I've put off. They must be done before I think of going on any trips.
I tried to book a few nights in an historic hotel on a historic island a few hours from here. Ma said, yea, she'd go. When I pulled up the hotel's website, however, it was booked solid for May, June, and July. Well, now, it seems that National Parks and places historic are being overrun. People want nature. People want historic. I think I liked it better when all they wanted to do was go to Disney.
I need to get these things done as quickly as I can, though, for May/June are certainly beautiful travel months across the old USA.
If I were really writing here, I'd now try to universalize the dilemma, make it relate to the problems of all humankind. Or I would winnow it down to the destructive forces of the natural world and reflect upon the fact that nature hates permanence. Something. Anything. At least a small trope.
But this morning, I am trapped in the literal. Maybe time is the enemy of creative memory. I don't know. I am simply looking forward to what I will eat today and to experimenting with some film.
And dreaming.
Romance. Remember romance? I don't know if people still do that. I remember what it feels like, smells like, tastes like. It is delicious.
The run up sometimes sounded something like this.
(link)
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