It’s the height of summer (practically) and I’m contemplating various colors of beige – some with a little blue, some with a bit of green, and apparently some with undertones of purple. Up at the Mountain Redoubt two different walls are roller-striped in five colors of paint and none of them is agreeable or much better than the lemony chiffon that currently must be eradicated. We have more to test on our next ascent, but work is moving ahead as planned and the bright gold-tone accents (door and closet knobs) are steadily being extinguished one by one and replaced with a more harmonious antique brass. The giant drum-shade lamp hangs above an empty space where a table will go and its light fills the tray ceiling most pleasingly. Two spots on the kitchen require a similar light but none yet has been acquired and the empty wires dangle capped with twist-on nubs.
Meanwhile back in and among the BayAryans the weather is tepid to say the best. When is the “real” Summer going to descend upon us with its full force and flaming fury? Possibly never as Global Warming turns to Global Cooling and arctic frosts from the chilly offshore water wells-up. At that time (one hopes) the popularity of winter forbearance will increase – and maybe finally the need for efficient heating mechanism will occurred to the denizens of the Neverending Perfect Bland. Meanwhile this place seems to be the one spot in the U.S. where the temperature never exceeds 65 degrees. How do they expect to run their High Speed Bullet Train from one end of the state to the other, with steam?