There is, at this very moment, the slightest whisp of a faint stream of fresh air sneaking in through the open windows. The sort of elusive moment of grace that calls for extra vigilance since, from experience, this signals an upcoming swift move to close all windows and lower all shutters. The sun is about to break over the line of trees. Once the sun breaks loose… well, it gets hot.
Not the most inspirational of times for a great surge forward in the art(s) of storytelling. Oops, windows: to your shutters. Here comes the sun.
One of those obvious things, as I turned, then tossed, then lay flat in the rumpled sheets: the main character in this story segment would have access to a car as a matter of course. How else would she lug around five kids, fill the larder and freezer with victuals and perform all other duties relating to her unwritten job description?
A car doesn’t change everything, but…
A family-type seven-seater, then. This requires some adjustments, and leads to further quality time alone with the character. More background, as usual. Further consultations on her lead intro, etc.
First will come the civil marriage ceremony in one tiny village up in the hills. Around five pm today. The bride and groom, both members of our singing group, have requested a rousing send-off at ceremony’s end. We’ll probably sing Bubamara, although improvs remain a possibility. After which the party moves on to a private camping-out venue near another tiny village in the hills. Heat prostration a distinct possibility but I have a designated driver in and out of the proceedings.
Oops, last and final window shut-down.
The mix of packed/unpacked belongings. The obstacle course from one room to another. The panting dog now giving signs she needs a treatment for fleas. Change of address notifications to various service providers and administrations. Story. Friends. Life in general, but mostly, life in specifics.
In the free book exchange at l’ibère familier, I picked up a tiny pocket book summary of William of Ockham’s contributions to Logic and Philosophy. Given the reigning physical chaos around me, reading the same sentence six or seven times, mulling on it, then reading it again? Believe it or not, I’m keeping the book close by. I’ve made it through the Introduction, and all the way to page 17, where we start dealing with the relationships between signs and language.
Water. Bottles of. Several. Must not forget.