Or at least the end of the summer, which is nearly as sad. Autumn always makes me feel a little blue. I love the colorful leaves, but the chill in the air and the shorter days always get me down. I have a hard time doing those end-of-season clean-up chores that I know are so necessary--cleaning out the veggie garden, protecting the hydrangeas, cutting back the iris and daylilies, mowing down the spotty, brown peonies. It all feels so final, so much like a funeral. I tend to compensate by planting spring bulbs, those little globes that feel like hope in your hand. Yes, winter is coming, with dark days and gloomy skies, but just beyond that is spring. Those little bulbs will defy the cold temperatures and dare to poke their green little noses through the snow, and even press their blooms out into the chill to announce that the darkness is nearly at an end!
I think part of my dreary feelings are due to the fact that we are making absolutely no progress on our house. The floors all still need replacing, the trim is still not up around any of the doors, the window sills and door frame continue to rot away, the roof is desperately in need of new shingles, and most of all, the bathroom is still torn up, and I have little hope that it will be repaired any time soon. Basically, Dave wants to do it all himself, rather than hire anyone, but he has neither the time nor the skill to do it, so it just goes undone. He wants to replace the roof before we do any other projects, but won't take action on it, and doesn't want me to take over on that. He doesn't want to have anyone over, primarily due to our lack of a decent bathroom, yet refuses to consider hiring someone to finish it, since the problem is bigger than we realized when we began.
It is difficult to spend so much time in a place that constantly frustrates you. I feel pretty powerless to do anything about it myself, and it is of no priority to Dave whatsoever. That is a difficult position to be in.
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