Well, not quite a solitary Christmas: I did go to the Isaacson's for Christmas Eve, and that was fun. But it was mostly a solitary Christmas (I think one of the side effects of my new weight-loss diet is a sort of depressing Germanic sobriety, coupled with Greta-Garbo syndrome: "I vant to be left alone!") No one was around on Christmas. Even E. was off with her boyfriend, most of the time. Just alone. Just me and some strange, hooded birds (Oregon Juncos, perhaps? I was unaware there was a controversy regarding the classification of these birds, but whatever they are, they seem to like the area around my birch tree.)
On Christmas (and part of today too), I tried to organize the basement. Like organizing DMTC's Scene Shop, this is a perennial, periodic job. Like DMTC's Scene Shop after every show opens, my basement will just get disorganized next year and have to be reorganized again. But at least it's in fairly-good shape, for now!
On Christmas Eve, I used a chain saw to chop three branches out of the big oak tree that looms above my house. (I worry about this oak tree because so much of it hangs directly above my house, and it gets bigger and heavier and potentially more of a threat every year.) This was a scary job, since the pinnacle of the pitched roof of the house is about three floors above the ground. Dangling an electrical cord from the chain saw and trying to keep my balance on the pitched roof as I waved the chain saw about, I felt vulnerable. Nevertheless, making so much noise that extended for blocks in every direction, I felt positively bitchin'! I could have chopped more branches down if I was daring, but I was timid, and three branches will do for this year.
Sally used to have a little crab that would climb to the highest place it could reach in its aquarium (on top of the bubbling air filter) and wave its big claw around at the passing fish. Standing on top of my rooftop, and waving my chain saw around at the passing birds, I felt very much like that crab.
E. worried about me prancing on top of the roof. At one point, she came out of the house, shook her head, and said: "You live a life of mystery and danger!"
Exactly right!
Despite the late date, there are still leaves on the pecan tree next door. Unlike previous years, this year, I won't blame Global Warming: it was a cold year in general, among the coolest recorded in California history! I wonder if the cool weather just made everything occur later this year, including the leaf fall?
I still need to chop branches out of the oak tree looming over the alley behind my house. Those branches pose a mild threat to the electrical lines that serve the lights in the parking lot. Deadline for finishing that job: Jan. 7th.
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