Janet wanted me to fix one of her watches today. At one point about six years ago I became fascinated with watch repair. I bought books on the subject, invested in tools and calibration instruments, met other watchmakers, and even managed to fix a few watches. I broke quite a few while I was learning, but it was all part of the process. My interest seems to have dissipated. When I got out my tools today, fixing a watch seemed about as exciting as cleaning the toilet. I managed to get Janet's watch working again without losing any of the tiny screws, and then put new batteries in a few of my own while I had the tools out. When I finished, I wondered how I ever became interested in this somewhat esoteric subject in the first place. Watches are a strange obsession for me. I seldom, if ever, even care what time it is.
Although my interest in watch repair, songwriting, film making, and electric trains may be on the wane, I do still care about some things. I care about the dogs, so I got up early so they could have a nice walk before it got too hot. I care about breakfast, so I went to my favorite restaurant today, knowing that tomorrow is a holiday. I care about the blog, so I keep writing in hopes that I'll have something interesting to tell you one of these days.
The sister I thought had disappeared from the face of the earth has reappeared. She still lives on the same farm, but has gone off the grid, ditching the Internet, her land line, and mail delivery to her house. I think she checks her mail once a month at a post office box in a neighboring town. I don't think she's missing all that much. My own land line seems to be exclusively for telemarketers and robo-calls these days. My mail box is filled with flyers, catalogs, and coupons for pizza, oil changes, and gym memberships. I haven't gotten a real letter in months. My e-mail in-box is more or less the same. I still get sporadic messages from clients, but the vast majority of my e-mail is spam. Life would probably be better without any of these things.
I hope we have a peaceful, quiet Independence Day. Dot used to hate the Fourth of July, because the loud fireworks upset her. Now that she's starting to go deaf, it probably isn't that big of a deal anymore. Janet is still a judge at a neighborhood Fourth of July parade. We still cook burgers on the grill for our holiday dinner. We don't sit on the grass by the lake and watch fireworks anymore though. The mosquitoes and fire ants would eat us alive.
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I never thought I'd lose interest in sewing, but I seem to have done just that. Strange stages of life.
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