Late Autumn

The Thai basil in my backyard is one of the last things flowering, and it seems every nectar-gathering flying creature in the neighborhood has come by for a visit these past two weeks. I've seen a few trailing Monarchs (fly south, my beauties! Winter will be here soon!), and bees, and small butterflies, and assorted creatures I don't recognize, many of whom have stingers (they pay no attention to me; they're busy eating).

The weather has been unseasonably warm. We've finally gotten a taste of days with highs in the seventies, lows mid-fifties. My brain can't quite grasp it - we have the temps of mid-September, coupled with the light of late-October. Scary.

Fortunately for my state of mind, enough of my energy returned this week for me to get back to getting my nest ready for winter. *whew!*

I'm not 100%. It has been taking me twice as long as it once did to get things done, but at least I'm able to make the attempt. The brain fog has lifted. (Mostly. For now. And, I know it will come back, but that's tomorrow's problem.)

Extra steps notwithstanding, it was - dare I say - ?fun? to tackle the project of replacing the rotted trim I noticed on the back of the garage while I was painting the fence. The problem children were two long, vertical 2x4s right behind the gutter downspout. When they installed the roof 12 years ago, the roofers did a lousy job of sealing the gaps under the drip edge. Over time, water did what it does.

The old version of me was used to working on stuff, and would have had the correct tools at hand to complete the entire project, had it done in a longish afternoon. The new me has been taking one step at a time for too long. I'd have (most of) what I needed to do *this* step, then need to trudge back around the garage to get the tools required for the next one. By the time I was done, I'd worn a path into the grass. At least I still knew what tools I needed, and could visualize the next step when I got that far. Counts.

These low-energy bouts do a number on my self-image. I begin to believe I am incompetent. No longer able to properly complete any task requiring dexterity and thought. That if I attempt the work, I'll just make the problem worse and I might as well just hang it all up and move to a condo where someone else can do this sort of thing for me because I'm just going to screw it up anyway and you get my drift.

It took two days, but the new boards are in, and the drip edge has been properly sealed. I'm quite pleased with myself.

I did the job well, I did the job right. 

My demons have once again been vanquished back to the desert where they can rot in the hot dry sun.

And. 

I. Am still here!