It was an overcast, gray today at the home office of Golden Handcuffs Consulting Amalgamated International.
I know that, lucky man that I am, because this is the view from my office. One could hardly imagine a greater contrast to the gray, dusty monoscape I saw from a similar vantage point out in the Sandlands, and I have to think that having this almost Shropshire Ladische prospect just past my desk must be part of the reason for my general feeling of well being these days. It's all too pastoral for words, and even though it's just a suburban office park (the vast parking lots are off to the left), it's terribly soothing.
Really not much other news of note at the moment, which after the past few months is in fact a great relief. We celebrated yesterday's august event with a festive dinner with the dogs at a local joint that welcomes them to the sidewalk tables, and if the tapas didn't quite rise to the splendor of Madrid, there are worse things than a glass of sangria or three on a Thursday night, don't you think?
As for the weekend, it will be filled with all those things so long absent from our lives: laundry, cooking, dusting, perhaps even a dab or two of fervid silver-polishing.* The apartment has fallen nicely into place, and while we still remain anxious about the arrival in a few weeks of all our possessions, now making their way across the Atlantic and with absolutely no place to go in our current straitened circumstances, I suppose we'll find a way to make it work.
Life in these United States: it may not quite be the glamourous Life that Late We Led, but it definitely has its advantages. If given the choice between the dusty monoscape and sidewalk sangria, one's choice suddenly looks quite simple...