all in the day

  A 5:30 am wakeup call, flashes of red sky back light a blue horizon under an ocean of drifting clouds, Lamjung watches life stir, birds sing all around, none can I see, voices from somewhere on the mountain and you can listen to normal conversations possibly miles away.  Ok, not that far.  Yesterday’s wall collapse has two-three young men moving stones back.  An hour earlier Laxman said it’d take a year to repair.  At this rate they could finish in a week. 

It feels quite natural to wash clothes outside by hand and quite natural to quickly feel  that saw trying to cut my lower back from washing with one knee down, bent over scrubbing personals with a handbrush.  My hat’s off to North Face’s trekking trousers, 28 days without a wash, without a smell or stain, they were happy for a scrub. 

There aren’t enough trees near the house to hang a hammock.  Last year’s hangs on a pillar, beat up and torn.  The afternoon nap is so easy, door and windows open, a cool breeze knocks me out good, definitely nothing done today, a Friday, though that doesn’t mean a whole lot up here.  Every day is the weekend or every day is whatever.

Thunder rumbles almost ten, a full fourth meal and a beer, there is no way I’ll lose any weight at this pace.  One cigarette today, an Indonesian one it was too, with cloves, and I gave Laxman the rest,  no sneezing attacks.  And how has Shiva’s gold held up, not bad, ready to pursue a better purity tomorrow.  We’re in the early stages but plans are to have an end of the world as we know it party on December 21^st.  Booking now is advisable.