Sunday, September 3, 2017

Diary

I've finished most of my astronomy equipment projects for the time being. I sold one item to a man in San Jose and another to a man in Belgrade, Serbia. The only remaining project is the cleaning of the 130 mm objective lens of my refractor, and I'm awaiting the arrival of cleaning fluid from England. The viewing conditions, however, have remained poor all summer. Orion is visible again – if you're up at 4:00 A.M.

This hasn't been a normal summer for me. We just had another round of workmen, who were hammering, drilling and sawing for a week in the process of repairing water damage and constructing a covered entry for the front door. William didn't like the noise either and spent all day sleeping on a chair in the basement. We also have had extremely cool weather. On September 1, the temperature hit 39 degrees Fahrenheit and there was a frost warning. In me, this seems to trigger a biological adjustment to winter, which isn't coming yet, and it throws me off. The tomatoes aren't doing as well this year, but are still producing adequately.

I think I'm suffering from a mild case of cabin fever for several reasons. First, I haven't left the state once this year, and its allure is wearing off. After six years, the native Vermonters seem less interesting to me than previously. Although they are generally more relaxed and pleasant than city-dwellers, like most of the rural people I've known they are socially retarded. Besides the usual New England reticence that I've come to expect, I find that they don't know how to communicate well and don't understand people who are not part of their immediate social group. Some of the people who have lived in this neighborhood for over 30 years have hardly ever spoken to each other. If it hadn't been for the recent migration of well-educated people to the state, it would probably still be a conservative backwater. In fact, parts of Addison County have an atmosphere similar to Southern Appalachia, complete with inbred populations that have become mentally deficient over the course of time. All of the people I know seem happy to live here, but, if you look closely, the native Vermonters are not well-integrated with the recent arrivals, and they comprise separate cultures to some extent.

Although my social needs are very limited compared to those of most people, it doesn't help that Anne, despite being healthy and energetic, gravitates toward people in the 75-100 age group. Admittedly, there are some advantages to that group: they don't have anything left to prove, are generally better-mannered and more articulate than younger people and are easy to get along with. However, to me they seem like relics of the past, and I often wonder how capable they are of understanding subsequent generations – not that subsequent generations are worth understanding. I might prefer people who are more physically active and less disease-riddled, but I haven't come across many and am making no effort to find them. As it is, I am unlikely to meet any through Anne, who is far more active socially than I am and my primary conduit to the outside world. Normally I am easily satisfied by the smallest amount of high quality social interaction, but under the present circumstances I'm hardly getting even that. It's beginning to look as if my primary social venue will be funerals – there has been one already.

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