Hmm....it's been over two months since my last post. I'd originally planned to make passing comments on the books and plays I've been reading/seeing. (Yes, yes, I know--the best laid plans...!) Until a week ago, I hadn't seen a play all summer. (Despite morning temperatures in the 20s, it still is, technically, summer.) Come summer our city's stages go dark; for a few precious months Nature, herself, is our diva. And as for books...well, they were replaced by journals, essays and magazines--"light reading" as we worked on building a greenhouse.
So why write now? Ah, the irony. I'm PROCRASTINATING. (I count myself among the few who write to procrastinate.) I'm supposed to be cleaning house for Friday's Oktoberfest on the deck, and cleaning depresses the heck out of me. We managed to skip spring cleaning this year because spring never arrived. And now that fall and the fest are fast approaching, windows have to be washed, carpets have to be cleaned, so on and so forth. Dust escalates into grease and dirt which, at least in our house, manage to inhabit every nook and cranny. The problem with cleaning is, the curtain rises on everything hidden. Drat. So it's time to give myself a pep talk and suggest that sweeping the cobwebs may turn out to be a metaphysical experience. Yeah, right. Better to turn out the house lights.