Disentanglements.
Wednesday, September 20th, 2006
There is a point where the heat and humidity of summer can no longer retain its grasp on our neighborhood, and the oppressive Augustness (which has often stretched into September) relinquishes its hold. Cool, fresh air blows through Atlanta while the sun seems to recalibrate itself to a more attractive angle so we may better appreciate what we have.
This is that point for 2006, I’m here to say. The afternoon light was beautiful, and it felt great to be out in it.
The sewer, storm drain, and water line crews who have bound up our street and most of the surrounding ones in their web of orange cones and diesel-belching trench-diggers seem to have picked other targets for now, although there was one drive home Monday that involved about 8 detours (or as Sammy likes to say, desviaciones) of a very, very ad hoc sort.
And inside, more vague lights at the ends of oppressive corridors. I’ve made great progress on desk disentanglement—processing vast stacks of receipts, bills, and stuff that must be reconciled in September into their various database entries, mailed envelopes and file folders that make our household life seem orderly and simple.
The stacks of books (at bedside, in my office, pretty much everywhere) that I’ve been really, really wanting to get to, including a couple by family and friends, has settled down nicely, and my brain feels somehow liberated by all the new ideas, images, and life stories.
And finally, Apple Computer made it right when, after almost a month of refusing to give us back our 12 inch Powerbook, shipped off to hospital (apparently in Nashville, who knew?) with a dead DVD drive, a Lenox Square genius bar denizen gave their cranky RDF generator a whack and we were handed a shiny…no, wait, matte-y new black MacBook, which seems to have several times the processing power of its predecessor. Smiles all around.
This is how the second half of September feels to me. Maybe it’s all influenced by my relief in getting past sad national anniversaries, maybe it’s a overarching feeling of ‘letting go’ that completely comes from stuff I’m processing inside…or maybe it is as simple as the rejuvenative effects of way-less-humid air in sparkling afternoon light.
