Today was the most gloriously beautiful Saturday in years. It was warm but not windy, sunny but cool enough that the sunshine felt revitalizing. It was the sort of day that makes you wish every day could be like that.

I sat down on my front porch to drink a cup of tea this morning, and the neighborhood was dead silent save for the mariachi music coming from the house across the street. It was a reasonable volume, though, so it didn’t detract from the morning’s ambiance.

That’s Enough With The Ambiance, Get To Work

There are two types of weather during which I most enjoy puttering in the garage: When it’s pouring rain outside and on beautiful, mild days like today. So, I spent the day cleaning up the mess out there. Apart from a few larger items, everything has a home now. I even came up with a clever spot for my roll of butcher paper that keeps it out of the way while still being accessible. In the process, I busted my thumb.

I was trimming a piece of plywood when the table saw kicked the wood back at me. I thought maybe it was broken at first, but I don’t think so now. The worst part about a hand injury is the days of not being able to fully use your hand afterward. I’m just glad this time it wasn’t an open wound. Those always make working harder when you’re trying not to get dirt and sawdust in it while trying not to bleed on everything.

Where Did That Scar Come From?

I will likely forget about my injury before long, but I know I will remember how beautiful today was for a long time to come. I hurt myself all the time, but days like today are few and very far between. I know that’s what makes them so special, but I refuse to believe I need a month of hurricane-force wind, wildfire, cold, heat, or rain to appreciate a day like today. Days like today stand on their own.

We capped this beautiful day with a delectable dinner of chicken piccata that Bonnie made. We ate al fresco to savor as much of this glorious day as we could. In a few days, the weather will turn to rain. In a few months, it will warm up, and the goddamned fucking mosquitos will besiege the yard and force us to sequester ourselves indoors until November. Then, the wind will return. Bad weather is as reliable as a good friend, but fair weather is no-nonsense shylock. You fuck with him, and he’ll break your fuckin’ thumb.