I have a pile of material awaiting my attention. I want to sew a bunch of baby blankets, mostly for my daughter but also for a relative. They call to me but not loudly enough. One day soon I'll sit down and work like a beaver, but evidently it won't be today. I'm restless, and getting away from the house is a siren call of a louder pitch. When the weather is overcast I get this way. What would I do if I lived with gray skies perpetually? I feel I need the sunshine, even if it means fires and drought and suffering plants. I've never lived in a cloudy climate, and my body reacts with panic when the overcast pall arrives. It's also signaling the end of summer, which we never had here in the first place, and shorter days and too many holidays in too short a time.
I need to get in the car and wander aimlessly for a while. By then the sun might be out and I can return home. But the baby blankets may have to wait some more.
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