27.05.2022 Silent witness.

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 Friday 27th 48F, bright sunshine and windy. Up at 5.30. Having more guilt trips. A lifetime of flashbacks. All queuing to have their moment in court. So many, many things done and not done. Guilty as charged! Take him down!

  It was too early for breakfast. So I have been window cleaning. Something rarely done in this house. In my defence I must say that reaching them was often impossible. Should I have made the effort? Even though it meant reaching through layers of curtains? Or over impossible obstacles. 

 Were the curtains to hide the shame of clutter and cobwebs? The same reason that nobody was allowed to come in and do work beyond my modest skills? Am I now guilty of parading my late wife as a failure to maintain perfect order over the last two, long decades? 

 Her standards of cleanliness were often well beyond my patience in all our former homes. She would not leave the tent in the morning on our camping holidays. Not before the groundsheet had been washed and dried. Swept free of the inevitable grass of camping in a field. The camp beds or mattresses arranged neatly around our few belongings. 

 She loved our fortnight camping holidays when we were younger. I hated them! I could never sleep properly on uncomfortable beds. I am deeply ashamed that I did not consider her needs before my own. I failed her constantly and endlessly throughout our marriage. Her life could have been so much more. But was endlessly subordinated. To caring for the immature, selfish failure she was lumbered with. 

 Now I race to make the house presentable. Why? For what reason? To make up for my failure to provide the home she desperately desired? To eradicate the results of my own inadequate behaviour? For not keeping my own things in order? I am equally guilty of having piles of stuff which was rarely looked at. I was barely able to find anything in my own clutter.

 Now it is all much too late to apologise. To make amends and change my ways. I cannot undo anything to assuage my constant sense of guilt. Even my tears feel like self pity. All I can think of is her constant disappointment. At my repeated failure to live up to her expectations. Despite decades of evidence that I never would amount to anything worthwhile. Would never put her first. 

 A short walk in sunshine and wind. Back to my latest, grandiose project. Still trying to impress the world. That I have some value beyond what you see.

 9.50 56F. Sunshine and heavy showers. Just finished morning coffee. I have six slats fixed up now. Time to move on to the other half of the balcony's, sloping ceilings.  

 10.40 Some of the battens on the other side are down. The usual struggle with worthless cross-head screws. Nails which don't want to pull out. It's probably just me. Having quality tools is no guarantee of success. Not when I wield them so clumsily. 

11.00 I was just about to go outside to saw some more slats when there was a cloudburst with hail. Even a rumble of thunder at 12.00 following yet another cloudburst. 

 I am trying to pull a large, Field maple upright. Using the trunk of the chestnut as an anchor for a heavy ratchet strap. The maple self-seeded just under the edge of the chestnut as both continued to grow. Resulting in a heavy lean by the maple in a desperate attempt to find some light. The maple is showing very strong resistance to pulling. Barely moving towards the chestnut and any hope of perpendicularity. 

 15.30 Returning from a shopping trip and buying more slats. Bought them from the same chain as last time. Twice the price! Cloudbursts continuing at intervals.

 I have discovered a problem with the second sloping ceiling. I had offset the battens to match the triangular window frame. So I can't just add slats to the underside of the rafters. As I did on the other side. 

 I need to add battens over the originals. To bring the surface out to one smooth level. Which must also follow the top edge of the triangular window frame.  Only then can I add the supporting slats. To exactly match the opposite ceiling. I have plenty of suitable material from the battens which I have already taken down. I shall start again tomorrow. Having [hopefully] slept on the problem.

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