swan lake

(is what is playing in my head* Probably because I watched Top Secret recently and there's that whole ballet scene, although what triggered my recall of this now is a complete fucking mystery to me)

It is BEAUTIFUL out today. Unfortunately, my yesterday got derailed, leaving me with too much to do today. I desperately want to go out and enjoy September. I can see orange and pinkish peach leaves in the distance, beyond the clump of summer which remains in the field immediately outside my window. Out there, Fall is happening and I really want to be part of it.

I'll have to find a reason to not sit in here all day preparing the week's lecture notes. See, I know if I fuck off today, I will seriously regret it Monday and Tuesday if not all week. So I can't just give myself permission to get out there for getting out there's sake. I need a good, solid reason. Anyone thinking I'm an uptight rule oriented freak? Yep. Sometimes. It would just be so easy....to take off, eat apples, find a porch or otherwise unleafy, nongrass covered shadey area to sit in while I watch the light change.

It's hard to be disciplined about this since yesterday's derailment wasn't due to fucking off but rather to a big fat somewhat unexpected migraine. I guess the vertigo on Thursday and Friday was a harbinger...I blew it off, took meds, whatever. And then early yesterday afternoon, just as I was about to leave to meet the white van landlord, SMACK, a big fat fucking sparkly twisty edged hole in my vision. If I hadn't felt so damned bad already, I'd have put a hole in the wall. Unless your body routinely betrays you like this, my guess is you won't fully understand just how extremely frustrating this can be. What makes it worse is that I was finally feeling like I was getting the swing of the lecture prep (a little), working out a rhythm. I had already lost some time this week with the vertigo but thought I was still doing well. Lost some more time being mopey about the worsening leaks Friday night (I came home to a flooded filing cabinet), but figured I put in a good chunk of time Saturday and today and still be ahead of the game on Monday. Now I'll be lucky if I get the minimum done - which is why I really (really) should stay in and work. And why I really really feel fucking robbed.

On the plus side, there is migraine sex which was quite good (coudn't really do much else so why not?) So my yesterday was disjointed mix of lying about in dark rooms trying to borrow into the pillows and synesthetic migraine sex, which did seem to help a bit. I didn't get much productive done until after 5:00PM when the photosensitivity was reduced enough that I could work providing I wore my sunglasses. I made a good start at an outline of the upcoming section of the course by working late into the night, but if I don't work most of today and tonight, I'll have some seriously disorganized lectures this week.

The migraine meant I (sadly) missed the visit to the "rental". The ambiguity of the term "rental" is fully appropriate here. It wasn't an apartment but the units sure weren't houses. What would you call them? Cottages? Cabins? Shacks? From the pictures A____ took, they look as if they could be considered cute if you were staying in them on a camping vacation. They'd make a somewhat civilized alternative to a tent or leanto or whatever the fuck camping sporty people sleep in when they go commune with bugs and and nature and shit. But living in? Hell no.

When I look at the picture (top right), I start thinking of the theme to Little House on the Prairie (the closing credits theme, which is a bit more up tempo and frolicksome than the opening). It's not that this place is remotely musical or inspiring (although what inspiration underlies 70s family TV show closing credits music is questionable). * Lately my brain is a near constant soundtrack of made up and/or existent melodies. And not always or even usually ones I'd like to hear much less get stuck humming for HOURS. It's sort of fun sometimes but mostly it's fucking annoying. I think this phenomenon is an artifact of me being stressed out.

But I digress.

A___ described the rental property thusly (very close paraphrasing):
The first thing I noticed was lots of grass, more grass than you would be ok with, a long dirt driveway, and a child playing in a puddle. There were several small brown houses all back behind one big white house.
(Me: What's the set up? I mean, why do you think they were built?)
Probably, they might have been farm hand housing, converted bunkhouses maybe. They went way back, down a dirt trail. It would be horrible to shovel. The guy was over in a side field, shirtless, working on something like an antique tractor. The entry lights on the units were all extension corded and looked pretty rigged up.

There's more. A___ mentioned something about a pile of mattresses outside. They are not shown in a picture, but that sounds perfect. I wonder if Martha Stewart could be persuaded to do a feature on the quaint rural charm of Northeastern CT ("the quiet corner!") where she can talk about the proper arrangement of bedding, appliances, and electronic equipment to give your property that old yankee junk yard feel.

I think one of the selling points of this place would be the light fixtures. I mean, look at that sconce! Isn't it adorable!?










Is it me or does that look like FIRE damage?











And then there's the kitchen. Arguably, one of the most important rooms for me. I like to cook, A___ likes to cook. This is what I call the "walk through" kitchen, it's sort of more of a hallway than a kitchen. The arrangment of everything in a nice row against the one wall enhances the all important intimacy of food preparation. Also, again note the lovely fixture. This time its the classic brass and plastic candle chandelier. Nothing says "welcome home" like that familiar, brassy smack on your head.