It’s three months later. Man, you blink ’round these parts…
Anyway, I have nothing to tell. It’s blasted hot and I’m busy as a busy thing. Boys are back in school, and this year Smacky joins the ranks of the elementary chillens in kindergarten. (Yes, we start stupid early but we get out before Memorial Day.)
So I have no knitting. I have no quilting. No crafting of any kind to speak of. It’s too freaking hot. I had some other stuff going on in real life that I will not be sharing here, but it is kicking my proverbial behind. Things are abating slightly, though, and I was tired of spending my evenings staring at my phone playing Tetris, so I got out that Rosetta Stone I bought over the summer, and lo, I have been learning some German. I have only had a few lessons and can say only a short series of utterly random things, but I’m still enjoying the hell out of wandering around the house and telling the boys, “Der Apfel ist grün.” You might think they would be rote, but all my Äpfel are grüne.
True to form, the monsoons seem to be over and the dry heat is returning a bit, and it feels like fall to me. (You northern people undoubtedly chuckle at my idea of fall, but it’s all I got right now.) Fall means restlessness. Fall means dissatisfaction and frustration and tearing apart the house and thinking about exercise and … Fall is when I stop hibernating and start thinking about being outside, about fall cleaning and opening windows and airing out cabinets. Fall is when I look in that box and think, “When the hell did I ever think I’d use these purses again?” Fall is when it’s hardest to be patient. When I start thinking about planting flowers and gardens (and finding a taller Juniper Diversion Device). When I wish I owned my house so I could paint walls and rip out cabinets and replace windows. Note that even when I did own a house, I almost never did these things, I just felt the stirring in my blood to make changes. If ever I manage to move from this miserable hot dust bowl, it will happen in the fall.