Sometimes ya got it, sometimes ya ain’t.
The deep part of winter — my first back in the NorthWET — wasn’t bad. But late winter and spring are dragging on like the worst of January. Cold. Gloomy. Eternally wet. I can’t remember the last time I saw sun. I have vague recollections of spotting blue sky last week, nuking a cup of tea with the intention of sitting on the deck — then discovering it to be pouring rain when I walked out the door.
I went to the hardware store yesterday and bought yellow paint for the garret room upstairs. I hate yellow. I would never paint a room yellow. I fancy myself an aesthete with a taste for the cool, dark, and sophisticated. But now the world needs yellow, bright and uncomplicated.
Painting walls or figuring out — with your astute help — how to cope with the eccentric ghosts of century-old home builders seems pleasantly real compared with the insanities, inanities, and cosmic cruelties of the outside world.
I surf the ‘Net and find that I don’t care. Seeking miscellany since I have no brilliant insights for you, I come up with productive time wasting, sad use of cool technology, and a conditional refutation of Bastiat on the broken window fallacy. (If true, does that make Bastiat’s refutation of a fallacy a fallacy itself? Who knows? Who cares?)
I learn belatedly that a young hero has cancer. This young woman is worth 10 of me. There’s nothing I can do for her, for her wonderful family.
I receive an undeserved gift for which I can never give proper thanks.
I can go upstairs and paint a dark room yellow. Otherwise, as Joel occasionally says, I got nothin’ today.