August has come, the fix-it time of year.

A month has slipped by and although I have had many thoughts, I didn't feel like doing the usual overview and analysis and scrutiny needed to wrap things up and make statements about them. I still don't, but I recognize that I am enervated and need fun things to remind myself what I love. Like writing.

The wedding/family reunion/OCF sure happened and it was intense and exhausting, and pretty darn fun. I wish I could have slowed it down. Having a video of the wedding is great, and it captures the moments very well. Lots of grins and warm feelings all around. It's hard to go back to normal.

 Normal means things like death and depressing house repairs and big projects I have no desire to begin. The roof on the shop needs replacing, and not just the shingles, I have to repair the plywood where that angry raccoon tore it up last year. I'll have to move that up on the priority list. I hope no mice moved in...I heard strange noises today. The roof on the shop isn't the only thing that needs to be fixed out there. I still have plenty of post-OCF sorting and repacking of things I don't even really want in the first place. I guess I wanted them at some point. I suppose I still want to be in the retail t-shirt business. Maybe tomorrow I will want it more than I do today.

I made myself go back out to the Fair Site several times and spent three days on a ladder re-shingling my little roof facade out there. It was fun, I realized about halfway through, so I slowed down and tried to enjoy it. Certainly I love spending time out on the land, with the birds and my solitary thoughts about the politics and the people and the complicated production that is Fair, and I like making things and solving problems, especially when nothing much is on the line. It doesn't matter a whole lot what I do to the booth, as it is built to rot 51 weeks of the year and look rustic the remaining week. I left some teeth of the old shingles to vex me in future years and get me back out there to work on it some more. It served me to have that new project, with cedar shingling which I hadn't done before and which is satisfying to do, but now it's done and I have projects at home that do matter. Maintenance and repairs have gotten a bit ahead of me in the last year what with the foot and all. And it hurts. Didn't like the ladder. I get a little depressed by my foot pain, even though on the scale of pain it is so minor and so not a problem like most people have problems. Still, it's more or less constantly getting in my way.

 Depression is an odd state for me. Maybe I flirt with it, as I really don't go that deep, usually able to distract myself with some project or other. My cousin, actually my Dad's cousin, Michael, died last week. He was only five years older than me, and I didn't exactly feel close to him, but I am much more affected by his death than I expected to be. It brings up all of my discomfort with death and illness, and that helpless feeling that comes with the grim options connected with the process. I know we will all go some way or other, I know it is part of life, all of that, but it's a big adjustment for the people left behind to regret and wish they had done better. I could have done a lot better by Michael, and some others I'm thinking about, so I'm kicking myself a little, which is probably a good trigger for depressing feelings and I guess I should find a way to stop.

I suppose I did the best I could at the time. When I feel too vulnerable I am not much good to others, and I tend to run scared and hide. I was a bit afraid of the emotional issues brought up by my Dad's side of the family and everything associated with that, and still wanted some answers from Michael which of course he couldn't give me as he was not holding those answers. No one is. I wish I would have tried harder to see what else Michael had to offer me outside of his association with my Dad, but I don't know if that would have been any easier. So I feel bad that he up and died and now I can't do better for him.

Of course the healthy thing would be to do better for someone else, someone who is in my life and could benefit from that. I'll try. Doing better for myself would also be smart. I could get that massage I need and make my friend Pamela a key lime pie for her birthday. That I could do. That would feel good, plus Pie!

I feel better already. All we can really do is try over and over to do the best we can when we get the chance. It helps if we know what those actions are...but mostly they are about being present and listening and paying attention, even if we are bored or not interested or feeling selfish or panicked. I can do better with that.

I'll get to that roof problem. Today I can't even make the list of things I have to do next. Maybe the list will be easier to make tomorrow, or even later. I do have some lovely purple tote bags on the line that I dyed last night and this morning and that could make me happy. It rained a few drops, which was different. I notice the neighbors have not only taken the tarp off the cob house in my view, but have taken off the roof as well and it looks like they broke up the pond surround and I am hoping they filled in the pond. I can't really see into their yard that well but it looks like they took off the front of the house too, and maybe it will not be a cob house anymore. If they don't reroof it it will soon be a heap of mud and straw. Maybe that is what is making me sad, since it is not something I can control at all, yet I have it in my daily view and have loved it for almost twenty years.

It is reminding me that when I was building this house they built the cob house, spending two months on it one summer when I was doing foundation work on my fifteen-year project. John and his friend Martin, who were around five, found the foundation work next door much more fun that what I was doing and they got just covered with mud. It's a happy memory. I should show the new neighbors the pictures and tell them what I know of the history.

It's all making me think about my own house again and all my research that needs finishing and further development. I do want to write that book. Perhaps I need to assign myself some kind of creative schedule so that time is built in for writing, as fun. Like bike riding used to be. I need some fun.

Fortunately the Slug Queen Coronation is this Friday and the laughs are guaranteed. I probably won't think about death or roof repairs or t-shirt sorting or anything like that on Friday night, and if I motivate to make that pie for Pamela, I can look forward to the taste of that. Those tricks should work.

Okay, I think I can go on now, I have tempted myself back into enjoying my life. Really, one little blog post is all it takes? Amazing, the wondrous human mind. Guess I can stand looking around to see what else is wondrous and delightful. Might even be surprised.