overdone

Maybe it's having spring thoughts that spurs the clean-up machine within me. Or maybe it's that I'd been lax with my weekly scrubbing and I was beginning to notice the effects of that. Or maybe it's because I took out all the cleaning paraphernalia from underneath the kitchen sink and that prompted me to get serious and use it all today.

I don't really understand why there are people (like me) who insist on overdoing once they start something (just as I had overdone it yesterday with so much effort put into a failed project! Not my fault there, by the way. The website I was working with refused to load...), but there you have it, I belong to those who plunge, full speed forward and then, much much later, sit back and study the damages.

Today's cleaning extravaganza resulted in a very sore lower back and a very clean everything else. Including the basement. Because yes, we even attacked that -- me, vacuuming cobwebs from the rafters and a year of dust from the floor, Ed tidying shelves of whatever stuff he wont store elsewhere.

So please forgive this post: it is what it is. We did little else today.

Well, unless you want to consider the breakfast. Front room today. (With my sweet guy, with his oddly broken pinkie finger and a shirt that should have been retired decades ago.)






And, too, I can give you yet another photo of the farmhouse, from it's less photographed side -- the one that actually faces the street. (You can't see its original front entrance, because it's behind trees and besides, it is in a sad state of disrepair and Ed has little interest in fixing it. His reasons are irrelevant and unconvincing but there you have it).





We had gone out that way, toward the cluster of neighbors (we have a few, but we are separated by more than fields -- we are isolates, all of us and we rarely (never?) knock on each others doors so today is a milestone). We were distributing information about a town meeting this coming Tuesday. Oddly enough we belong to a town, even though that town along with any commercial point is really miles away. We plan on attending the meeting we want to encourage others to attend. There are rumors of a development that may someday (soon?) replace the fields where farmer Lee and her extended family now grow market produce. There are many reasons why a development here, now, is not a good idea (and they are not only NIMBY reasons). So there we were, going door to door -- a most unusual activity for the two of us.

How come you hate this so much? -- he asks, after I wince at the prospect of yet another house.
I have to be friendly.
You don't like being friendly?
I don't like failing at being friendly.


In the evening Isis is a little under the weather. Ed works on an engineering project I cannot begin to understand. Supper is simple, the evening is too short. I watch a movie about young love. ("Like Crazy.") Sad. But then, when is young love anything but sad?  Or is it that it has to be sad before the good years come spilling forth?

Day ends, house is clean. Ready for the week ahead. And that's a good thing.