INTERLUDE

Tired August is winding down like an antique clock, and no key can be found to rewind it.

The changes are very subtle, perhaps unnoticeable to some: shadows are slightly longer, trees look listless, afternoons are lethargic, darkness comes earlier. Summer is waning.

August used to be one of my favorite months - - when I lived in a decent house with central air, within a semblance of civilization.

I didn't have to contend with squirrels in the roof, 'possums under the house, snakes IN the house, acres of 12-foot "weeds", wasps, hornets, beetles, gnats, fruit flies, drain flies, GIANT spiders, endless rain, and a two zillion mile drive to town.

Am I complaining? Naw. When I'm in a bad mood you'll know it.

Late last night I got another horrifying aura migraine. It scared the jeeters out of me and I was forced to go to bed.
Stress.
Stress is my middle name.

Today (or sometime soon) I have to work on my car. It hasn't been starting properly and I was temporarily stranded the last time I went to town (I'll spare you the painful details).

So what else is new?
Fog every morning. Which I love.
Plenty of butterflies and dragonflies.
Which I like immensely.
Rain yesterday with unusually cool temperatures. Which was delightful.

Every once in awhile, I write these crappy, incredibly boring blog posts.....just so that you don't have too much of a good thing.

Photos, anyone?
These were taken a few days ago.

Morning fog in the front "yard"

 Early morning in the back "yard"

ICY INTERLUDE AND BLOGGING

 sunset this evening

It's long after midnight on an icy night - hence the post title. The expected snow never materialized, but there were heavy flurries and plenty of ice. Tonight it is 12 degrees (Fahrenheit). Two nights ago it was 7. These frigid temperatures compel me to stay up and monitor the water pipes. I don't want them to freeze and burst like they did last winter.

Interlude?
This is a brief respite from my previous post The Long Interview - Part One. Judging by the tepid response it was undoubtedly too long. Some people might have thought it was boring and self-serving. I tend to vehemently disagree, and I might post the rest of the interview just for spite (sarcastic smile).

Most bloggers are very reluctant to reveal personal things about themselves. They toss out a tidbit now and then, but prefer to leave readers in the shadowy netherworld of uncertainty (perhaps they are much wiser than myself). I usually wear my heart (yes, I have one) on my proverbial sleeve. I felt that rehashing the interview would illuminate some of my shadows.

One of my long-time readers, Donna, recently mentioned that she misses my rants about my neighbors (and other annoying people I endured when I lived in Texas). Actually, I miss those rants, too. I used to turn my personal misery into enjoyable reading.

Way out here in the peace and privacy of the wilderness, I admittedly don't have many interesting things to tell. I've lately been reduced to writing about my cats and the weather. Not very appealing subjects, I'll admit.

I used to have a fantastically adventurous life. I figured that re-posting the interview about myself would help expunge the mundane blandness of my present situation. Against my better judgment, I'm going to put the rest of the interview in my next post.

As for tonight: it's moonless, quiet, and bitterly cold. My trio of cats are asleep. I'm drinking a cup of coffee and feeling thankful that the pipes didn't freeze - - yet.

my cat Scratch yesterday, enjoying a patch of sunshine

 

Here's the link to my other blog
(holy crap, why would he have two??)

Cabinet of Curious Treasures

INTERLUDE

Final scene of Die Walkure

Wotan is igniting the magic fire

It was inevitable that my energy would finally wear out. I've moved many times before - it's no big deal to me. This time, however, the move dragged on seemingly forever and escalated into a harrowing ordeal. I wasn't settled for three months.

I finally have my new place. And my possessions. But I no longer have my stamina. I'm exhausted, worn out, unmotivated. I have a sinus infection and sore throat. This isn't the result of the pure mountain air. I had these particular maladies my entire life - no matter where I lived.

Am I complaining? Naw. Let's call it a minor case of innocuous bitching. Even sweethearts like myself have occasional foul days.

The weather is warming up. Slowly. It was in the 20's last night. In the 30's today. There are lots of birds in the nearby woods. Beautiful cardinals. Also deer and squirrels. No noticeable mountain lions or sightings of Big Foot.
 I can hear the sharp report of a hunter's rifle now and again. Sometimes a little too close for comfort - but it lends to the rural atmosphere.

I should have said "shot" instead of "report", but I wanted to sound proper and refined.

When I step out my back door and see the great threshold of a forest, I instinctively assume a Wagnerian Mode. This morning I immediately thought of Forest Murmurs from Siegfried.

Last night, in the company of my old friend Insomnia, I watched the final act of Wagner's  Die Walkure on YouTube. One of the most profoundly beautiful and moving scenes in the operatic repertoire, in my opinion.

Wotan's heartwrenching farewell to his daughter Brunnhilde. And the magnificent magic fire music.

The great angry god Wotan forfeits his daughter Brunnhilde's Valkyrie status and renders her a mere mortal - - then sentences her to eternal sleep, until she can be awaken by the kiss of any man brave enough to penetrate the protective fire that surrounds her.

.....and all this happened because Brunnhilde had rescued the hapless Sieglinde, who is pregnant with Siegfried (who will become the future rescuer of sleeping Brunnhilde), - - after Siegmund (father of the yet unborn child) has been killed because of Wotan's relentless wrath......

That's a gross simplification of the plot. I wouldn't want to confuse anyone with complicated details.

Unsuspecting novices are forewarned to drink whiskey and/or indulge in your favorite recreational drugs before attending an opera by Wagner. Extensive psychological rehabilitation may be required after attending a performance.

I jest, of course. I love Wagner's music with an unwholesome passion and can't get enough. I can sit through the entire Ring Cycle without flinching.

I didn't say rinse cycle.
I said Ring Cycle.

Hey, if you think this blog post is boring, you'd better hope I never decide to write about Nietzsche.

I'm really not sophisticated in the least. I'm just a simple country boy at heart.