I wrote this more than yesterday.

I stayed up late sewing last night. Would I have done that if I had written this post then? Maybe. Mostly because I was repairing Abby’s skirt after a long delay and mostly out of an apology for having a grown-up-tantrum about how much work there is and how agitating some elements of our life are right now. Agitating and precarious, but ultimately fine and also good. Suffering s subjective, and that cuts both ways. Things could be worse, things could be better, it’s a good thing to be a bit stoic, but also some things are agitating far beyond their scope or shape, intention or purpose.

It sure does rain a lot these days. More rain than not it feels like. The seams of my raincoat are failing and it wasn’t ever that waterproof to begin with. Can’t afford a new one and my hearing protection broken. I’ve got a backup pair but it doesn’t play music. Can’t afford a new pair of those neither, so I guess we work in silence this summer, and potentially forever.

I don’t see a path forward that’s more relaxed financially. Something to comes to term with I suppose.

This isn’t a complaint or playing the blues, it is what it is and maybe it’s a step in coming to terms with it. Maybe that’s what this blog has always been.

Over the past break from writing it I’ve written a few long texts to a friend or two and it has occurred to me that those are a similar length to most posts (this one is a bit long). I’ve written in the past about turning this blog into a series of letters to…different friends, to Roby, to my self in the past or the future.  It occurs to me that this may have always been the case.

It’s just not clear who these messages were addressed to.

It’s still not.