The sun is not yet up. I have a few minutes before heading into the day. My typing is worse than usual because I have a skin split in my right index fingertip from cleaning my shower head in a bowl of vinegar. It worked really well, and now I am getting an actual shower instead of a sprinkle. Last winter I got skin splits all the time from hand washing dishes, but with a family we use the dishwasher more and so my hands have been spared this winter.
The contractor is waiting for a guaranteed two days without rain to fix our roof. The insurance check came last week, and so now it is all about the timing. Meanwhile, we have a leak in a heating pipe in the basement. Repairing it means shutting off the furnace for a considerable time, and as it is still sort of chilly outside, we just empty the bucket right now. I should do that today in fact. And there is another leak, from the outside through a chink in the masonry wall I think, that has entered a cabinet and so all the financial papers in there are now on a bench in the family room. That’s in addition to the financials spread on my dining room table as I sorted out what my accountant needed to do my taxes.
There’s a story of folly. I sent all these papers off two weeks ago. A week later they came back because I had misaddressed them – finishing the address with “Grand Rapids…” because I was trying to multi-task that day. I remember it all too well. You would think that I would have an interlude of competence between infancy and senility. And last night the dryer decided to lose its heating power, so the house is now filled with the damp banners of clothing hanging out to dry. I wonder if they can serve as domestic prayer flags, like those that flutter in the Himalayas, and perhaps send our own om-like petitions to the bodhisattvas of the laundry.
I wanted to comment on the new TV series about polygamy, but the sun is now coming up and the day is beginning. My neighbor owl, apparently unbothered by the loss of the great hackberry tree, has finished its nocturnal sentinel duty and so its tender hoot is gone in the gray morning light. My son and wife are downstairs now; the tasks of the day are beginning to emerge from the shadows. Easter is bearing down, and other deadlines are visible on the horizon. Wish me luck.