The significance of today:
The Seattle Seahawks are 3-0.
The Washington Huskies are 3-0.
I have settled on the subject of my next painting, and it should be done sometime in the next ten years or so.
We have moved one step closer to siding the tiny house in that today we finished Dane's window (a salvaged boat window from Alaska, a real pain in the ass, much like the man himself. Just difficult angles, rough around the edges.) and also moved the butt-ugly electrical plug from sticking out of the front of the house to running discreetly down its undercarriage (note to self: make sure to secure a bit, well, more securely, before the house travels to the Tiny House Conference). Now all we have to do is finish the tiniest bit of trim and soffit work and order the siding, which will be delivered the following day.
It's the autumnal equinox, my favorite season of the year. There is something about fall; most people bemoan the shorter days, but I must have some bear in me because I love the prospect of hibernating, watching football, reading under a blanket in the sun outside and generally buttoning everything up before winter. Which is supposed to be brutal in the south this year.
Plus, we are just that much closer to getting the fuck out of 2013. I am working hard to appreciate every day more than I have in the past, and that includes not wishing for time to speed up, but in the case of this year, I am done. Twenty-fourteen couldn't come fast enough.
Still no prospects for the future, still no end in sight of grief, still no closer to understanding the thing that is The Child's brain. But the sun is out, the sky is clear, and I have fresh flowers in my front planters. That will have to do.