Friday, August 17, 2007


Strangely haunted by feelings of guilt, twitchy and aimlessly prowling while the work I have given months of planning to sails forward, not without hitches but they are wonderful plumbers. I eavesdrop all the time, and we were commenting after they had gone on the quality of their communication with each other: spare, cogent, intelligent. I suppose that is why two days work is $4000, and worth it.

They have completely rerun the cracked cast-iron waste pipes which meandered through the storage room, put them to the side wall so a whole corridor is freed. I shall scour it today, there is mud on a half-wall which almost looks as though swallows had nested overhead, though I don't see how they could. Unless it hasn't been cleaned since the boathouse was enclosed, twenty-odd years ago...

So why these three a.m. hand-wringings? I feel very illegal, for all sorts of reasons even I am not rash enough to record. Maybe is it spending the money, or the real possibility that the USA is slipping into an abyss of its own making. Yes, I suppose that would do it.


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