August 6th, 2017.

This house has been made much simpler to live in, within the 3 weeks I’ve had my holiday. Thus easier to keep. I’ve enjoyed the progress I’ve made, though naturally there’s a lot to do still. And there’s time in which to do it. I amaze myself, what with what I seem to accomplish. Am rarely standing still, unlike some. Was disappointed to learn the house isn’t worth much – to be honest, I had higher hopes. But will try and do something about it soon. Fixing up the basement should improve on the price-tag. And then it’s December until that’s done, at least, and the lesser the light, the better to hide this horrid house’s imperfections.

Back to work, but how long will I last there, I wonder. Hopefully not long – in as much as I naturally hope the job-applications I sent out will prove successful.

I do sometimes ponder what will happen to us, V and I, as the kids move out. I fear we might go our different ways. Particularly, I fear I might from time to time blame her of her laziness throughout the years. I think of this house, and this ground on which it stands, and wonder how magnificent it would appear if she had the work ethics as do I. A bigger ask, but even half of it would suffice, methinks. But that’s quite a stretch from the current conditions. I must admit I increasingly often lose respect for her, as she points out that she never has any time to herself. Most women would envy her the kind of lifestyle she leads; concerned with only the kind of duties she fancies to take on, with no regular work to prevent her from spending the hours doing them, and with ample time to entertain herself when she’s not engaged in them. I’m bugged by the way that she, when she picks up a book, absolutely has to finish it, utterly unable to postpone it until a more suitable time. Thus she’s unreachable for family affairs, completely engulfed – until a brief interlude, before the next novel or movie. It’s not in her persona to change that, I’m aware, the illusion of free will and all that. Still I might hope in vain that she would look to yours truly, and compare choices of activities – and correspondingly question whether her activities benefits the entire family, or just herself, which is usually the case. And hence my worry, that in due time, when children do not occupy us the most, if that continuous lack of respect becomes too great to remedy?

 

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