Started a local (yes, those I dream about - no hours of driving and having the arthritic glue set-in) climbing prune - 15 oaks of the Blackjack variety - easy, soft, sprouts snap clean and light spongy wood. Finished the first one yesterday but the heat beat my butt - loaded up, split, and hit the river half-way through the day.
Today I resolved to get there at sunrise - here I sit typing this. It's already hot out - worse, the roof's dripping dew and steam's rising.
Something's keeping me from going - maybe it's sadomasochism and I want it to get even hotter out? Is it premonition of a hitch loosening off or a rip of tendon from the Silky? Glad I don't have a helper on this one - someone starving to get paid and waiting for me patiently at the job site. Maybe if I did though, I'd be half-done by now, quitting before the sun cooks my thinning dome and bleaches the Stihl orange to white on my bar oil bottles. I'm still here.
I'm not sore or heat-stressed from yesterday, though today I'll probably fry some thinking cells - something else is keeping me here under the ceiling fan - ever get this syndrome? Easy climbing, some audience even, greatful and never seen a climber climb before - still I feel like a wimp for some reason I don't know like writer's block to the poet or something. I need the money, they need not have their prune drawn-out for days on end - something is keeping from that which I live for, whathehell is this?
Does this ever happen to anyone besides me?
(I'll probably finish tying my boots and be gone and workin' soon so everything's moot anyway, but still...here I is asking this)
Today I resolved to get there at sunrise - here I sit typing this. It's already hot out - worse, the roof's dripping dew and steam's rising.
Something's keeping me from going - maybe it's sadomasochism and I want it to get even hotter out? Is it premonition of a hitch loosening off or a rip of tendon from the Silky? Glad I don't have a helper on this one - someone starving to get paid and waiting for me patiently at the job site. Maybe if I did though, I'd be half-done by now, quitting before the sun cooks my thinning dome and bleaches the Stihl orange to white on my bar oil bottles. I'm still here.
I'm not sore or heat-stressed from yesterday, though today I'll probably fry some thinking cells - something else is keeping me here under the ceiling fan - ever get this syndrome? Easy climbing, some audience even, greatful and never seen a climber climb before - still I feel like a wimp for some reason I don't know like writer's block to the poet or something. I need the money, they need not have their prune drawn-out for days on end - something is keeping from that which I live for, whathehell is this?
Does this ever happen to anyone besides me?
(I'll probably finish tying my boots and be gone and workin' soon so everything's moot anyway, but still...here I is asking this)