Life of a woodworker…drove two hours to cut up a fallen branch of 300 year old pecan so that I can turn it into beautiful things. Fallen from one of my absolute favorite trees for over half of my life. The wood smelled of summers growing up on the quiet small town roads of Stephenville, Tx. Sweat buckets, dirtied my car again, and now am on the way home to read a book I’ve been waiting for over a month.

The Texas summers have changed from when I was little, drinking from the hot water hose in the backyard. When you had to let the water run to cool down from the hose sitting in the sun. When the water tasted of hot rubber and usually had grass cuttings or mud around the rim of the opening. I smelled the pecan wood today and could smell the hot rubber of the hose again as well.

Thank goodness I don’t have to rely on hose water these days, am spoiled with apple cider vinegar lemonades with ice.

The summers are more brutal now, and veggie gardens get so stressed they don’t produce. This year we’ve finally had a good soak before the heat became intolerable, so the ground is more hospitable, but the plants still suffer. I’m convinced the environment is hit harder by humanity than the authorities are telling us.

I haven’t written in so long. Not even sure if life has been busy or if I’ve been neglectful. Well I have been neglectful of this blog. Not in my head as much as usual, not sure if that’s a good thing or not.

The man child is spending the summer with me which definitely means my mind is occupied elsewhere or distracted 99% of the time. Family and kids are wonderful, but also quite diverting from any writing. I’ve been reading less of late as well but you’d never know it looking at the bookcases. Been acquiring titles from the local library bookshop like mad. Drat having such a good one close by. Surrounded by a wealthier area where people donate their books to the library to sell, such a hardship. last time I took the teenager there we both walked away with stacks, his bigger than mine.

Work has been more intense, busier. It’s making me a better manager but wipes me so completely that I’ve not much left by the end of the week. Autistic burnout is a thing. Today I got quite irritable driving home with the teen in the car, being our DJ. It was probably the first time I realized where the irritability was coming from, too much loud music and talking over the music, and the bright sun blinding me and making my eyes burn and water, and the heat advisory warning us of 112 degree air just waiting to make me feel like I’m walking in a warm stuffy wet blanket. Just everything on top of the noise made me unable to mask and it was miserable. Thankfully when we got home and I was in out of the bright and heat and noise I realized what had happened. I apologized for being short with him and he absolutely got it, knew what was happening before I did. I swear the world is going to be saved by this generation. Hopefully.

Life is mellow, with moments of joy in a great cup of coffee or book or kitty cuddle. Now has come the time when it’s painful to be outside, so I must make do indoors. It’s infuriating. Even working in my little home woodshop is a painful joke, as it’s a small metal building with no shade or air movement. But I can do small things.

I’m playing around with the idea of making beautiful ribbon skirts and dresses with the new sewing machine my mother gave me today. May even see if I can find a way of designing something I don’t feel weird gender dysphoria in. I want to remain true to tradition, but also know my ancient ancestors wouldn’t care as much as the more recent ones. Perhaps ribbon shirts that are long and tunic-like, with leggings and a belt. I will dream on it and see where it leads me.

As I do with many things these days.