Wetter and Wilder in the Moment

Wetter and Wilder in the Moment

Tomorrow I turn sixty-seven. Since I am four days ahead of myself with my writing (a sure sign that I’ve been cooped up by the weather lately), you’ll be reading this when I am into my sixty-eighth year. I have a good relationship with aging, so I almost always refer to myself as being at the age of the year I am working on. That means that in a few days I will be saying I am sixty-eight when asked. That age seems to be somewhat in the never-never land of aging. Turning sixty-five is more significant because it is the historic age of retirement (Social Security has shifted that to somewhere between sixty-six and sixty-seven now). My mother used to say that seventy is the most disliked age because the world thinks of you as beyond productivity and more a drain on society than a contributor. She told me that about twenty-five years ago so I imagine that may have shifted upward toward seventy-five by now. Right now we are all being defined by the governments mandates for cohorts worthy of vaccination priority. They shifted from first responders to 75+ very quickly and then, for some reason, long before all 75+ people got their vaccinations, they dropped the requirement to 65+ where it stands now. That seemed to work as I got my first vaccination two days ago. We’ll see if the priorities are collapsing further next week when Kim (age 62 at the moment) goes in for her appointment for her vaccination. If she gets it, its a free-for-all. If they push pause and reassign her to wait, we’ll know they are sticking to their guns. Supposedly they are doing something like 1.2 million vaccinations per day in the U.S. right now. That makes sense since President Biden set the bar at 100 million in his first 100 days. Savvy politicians like Joe do not make early promises they don’t think they can keep. The man has a 54.2% approval rating to maintain.

Today was another rainy day here in San Diego. I am still on one hand of fingers counting the rainy days since the start of the rainy season in November. I’m not sure that qualifies as a wet winter season, unless we stack up severity of the rain and add points for violent rain. Today it was off and on, but it did get pretty violent for a moment of two. I managed to go outside twice today since my work crew planned on a rain day and was nowhere to be seen on or around the deck. In the morning I wandered out back to survey the under-deck wiring being done in preparation for all my low-voltage wiring, which will consist of fourteen LED light bars along the front edge that will light up the glass railing, four up/down sconces on the palapa posts and four flood lights for the nearby landscape elements set on the deck fascia. By the end of this week, the sconces will be installed and working and the other fixtures will await installation for when the railing gets installed in a few weeks.

The light wiring seemed all in order from my inspection. At this point the deck is completely covered in 1” plywood and has one row of gypsum board. I expect there are two more days of gypsum installation after which the prep mud will be applied to bring the deck into full level for drainage (a precise process per Handy Brad’s standards). While that is going on, Dave, who has done all the electrical will be focused on setting the six cylindrical column caps with their stucco caps. After that we have a day to waterproof the full deck and fascia and then we get to the tiling process to finish the deck. Then and only then the glass people will put on the railing clamps and order the glass while the lighting fixtures are placed and installed. Then, dare I say it, we are mostly done. There will be some gypsum installed under the deck and some fire vents, but those can be done in due course. So, all in all, we are getting close.

Now that all my backyard landscape lighting is installed with buried cabling, I was surprised to see that the lights on the Joshua Tree metal sculpture were not fully functional. I wandered down this morning and replaced some of the buried connectors and the lighting is back to working just fine tonight. While walking back uphill, I noticed that the Calliandra Haematochephala with the feathery pink flowers was being weighed down in the rain and was impinging on the Bougainvillea plants. So, I went and got the clippers and went at it to trim away the low branches. One thing I learned (or should have learned) back in my arboretum days was that when you prune bushes and trees in or just after the rain, you get wet…very wet. Plants love rain and they cling to the water every way they can, right up until you get into their branches and mess with your clippers. Then the plants fight back the only way they can, by soaking you with as much rain as they can. I got the job done of pruning that lovely tree, but I also got soaked while doing it.

Strangely enough, my two forays into the yard today brought me inside to first wash my very dirty hands from unearthing the landscape lighting and rewiring a few connections, and then brought me in soaking wet from my wrestling with the Calliandra, but mostly it all made me feel more productive and good. That’s the main thing in life these days, finding things that make me feel good in the moment. In the moment is a bigger and bigger thing as I get older and we all survive this pandemic. Living in the past has its value since we have wonderful memories that bring with them lots of joy, but also a tinge of sadness over loved ones departed or times we are unable to share these days. Living in the future also has its rewards because it is that looking forward that invigorates us to plan and think of good times to come. But in this time and place, the joys of the moment are the key component of happiness.

So, today was a wild day of wind and rain that got wilder and wilder by the moment. I managed to take a wet day and by virtue of trying to add value to the property and my gardens, I got wetter and wetter. So today (which is technically now my birthday) I plan to to stay wetter and wilder in the moment.