the responsible thing
Jun. 1st, 2008 10:27 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ezekielsdaughterAnother day of doing the responsible thing. I do wonder at people who love housework. Somehow, I missed that gene.
I painted the outside of the French doors that have been long unpainted. Painting the door is not part of the task of installing the door, it seems. And I left it unpainted for some time. The inside was painted when the contractor redid the room. The outside remained unpainted.
My father is somewhere no doubt groaning at my technique. Well, since Jewish tradition includes the idea that the only afterlife we can expect is the memory that we leave—I should say that the memory within me of my father is groaning. I taped the glass and the door fixture. But what to do about the groove for the sliding screen door? Not taped in this case, and I’m unsure if it should have been. As it is, I painted two layers of primer and the wood soaked that up like a cactus in summer. Should I give it another coat of primer? I don’t know.
Then a trip to the gym for 30 minutes of aerobic exercise. Stationary bike and elliptical machine. I am trying to keep the demons of diabetes and heart disease away. Those genes I do carry.
The cable TV is still out and all of my friends are unavailable. No one answers their phone. My sister was busy. You would think that someone up there wants me to finish editing that novel. If I manage to cut it down to size, I could maybe get help from Clarion online. When I went to the gym, a young lady working mentioned that she was trying to get back to her studies and get her G.E.D.. She reminds me of my weekday words to myself: “Don’t try. Do!” So, it is back to work editing. That is another responsible thing. That one can be completed at least. Housework never can.
I painted the outside of the French doors that have been long unpainted. Painting the door is not part of the task of installing the door, it seems. And I left it unpainted for some time. The inside was painted when the contractor redid the room. The outside remained unpainted.
My father is somewhere no doubt groaning at my technique. Well, since Jewish tradition includes the idea that the only afterlife we can expect is the memory that we leave—I should say that the memory within me of my father is groaning. I taped the glass and the door fixture. But what to do about the groove for the sliding screen door? Not taped in this case, and I’m unsure if it should have been. As it is, I painted two layers of primer and the wood soaked that up like a cactus in summer. Should I give it another coat of primer? I don’t know.
Then a trip to the gym for 30 minutes of aerobic exercise. Stationary bike and elliptical machine. I am trying to keep the demons of diabetes and heart disease away. Those genes I do carry.
The cable TV is still out and all of my friends are unavailable. No one answers their phone. My sister was busy. You would think that someone up there wants me to finish editing that novel. If I manage to cut it down to size, I could maybe get help from Clarion online. When I went to the gym, a young lady working mentioned that she was trying to get back to her studies and get her G.E.D.. She reminds me of my weekday words to myself: “Don’t try. Do!” So, it is back to work editing. That is another responsible thing. That one can be completed at least. Housework never can.
