We’re deep into Monsoon now. So far it’s been a breeze compared to last year’s serial deluge, but satellite links clearly don’t like air full of moisture and turbulence and electrical discharges because it has become quite predictable that my connection will go completely to shit from the start to the finish of Monsoon even if the dish isn’t falling off the cabin. And sometimes you’re just going to have one of those days.
Yesterday was a classic. It started raining around five in the morning. It never rained hard, the few thunderboomers we encountered passed us by entirely, but it never stopped dripping all day long. One of your Uncle Joel’s little peculiarities, which he don’t talk about very much, is that he has had major breaks in three of his four limbs and various other places as well (half the bones in my body would be an exaggeration, but perhaps an excusable one) not to mention all sorts of strained and dislocated joints, and the older he gets the less he likes wet, drippy weather. Living in an arid climate has its problems, but for me it’s not entirely devoid of advantages. But none of those advantages were making themselves particularly evident yesterday, and so I just stuck my nose in a Larry Correia book and wished the world away.
This morning I’m off to town early, where I hope to score a decent phone holster to replace this crappy dollar store abortion that keeps snagging on things and falling off my belt. And then of course there’s Monday shit-shoveling, so I’ll be back later sometime maybe. But your friendly neighborhood paranoid recluse is going to start his day with a spot of acquisitive materialism. 🙂
In the meantime, please allow me to fill you Claire fans with either righteous validation or guilt and remorse over the news that Claire’s roof fund seems to have stalled somewhat.
Thank you, Joel. I can imagine how those old broken bits must get to hurting in the damp. It sucks that you go through young adulthood thinking you’re mostly healed up (well, except for the worst injuries in your case). Then you turn 60-ish and discover there ain’t no such thing as being healed from old injuries. Sigh.
Many, many thanks for the extra push on the roof fundraiser (roofraiser?). Yep, seriously stalled. Totally awesome start. Then zero yesterday and $30 so far today. Of course I knew the momentum wasn’t likely to last, and I am expecting some snailed contributions so I’m not worried about it. But yeah … that’s a stall, alright. Appreciate you thinking of me.