Today I began the weekly outdoor maintenance of my place of residence by mowing. I did get the areas along the road done before the belt of the tractor (a.k.a. my
Gravatar) disengaged again. It’s inconvenient, but I’ll just do other things today. I called and they can come in the beginning of the week.

Oh, well. At least I mowed the areas along the road, so they look OK for the neighbors. The grass isn’t so high that I can’t finish up in the middle of the coming week. Since I realized I’m not staying here, my landscaping goal has gone from planning every nook and cranny to keeping the yard looking acceptable enough that nobody calls any agencies about it.

Today my daughter continued playing her new video game while I did stuff around the house. She has chores to be completed by 6 pm, but I think at 16 she could do other things that need to be done without being prompted, let alone nagged. But that doesn’t happen, so it’s better to nag than to take the easy way out by doing things myself, avoiding the stress of confrontation, and letting her get spoiled like a forgotten roast lying on the counter. So I told her she needed to clean the dog pen. Now. She complained. There was a pause in virtual bloody body parts flying around the TV screen. But after doing what I asked she came back a more engaging, happier person.

I wish I had a place of a manageable size that I could commit to and cultivate. I wish my daughter had more motivation.

Sometimes, it’s just about keeping things going. Nirvana to come later.