Slow Start

I expected to start hanging right away today, but Charlotte was still tweaking the arrangement, so I did some chores and ran some errands and left at four, which I certainly won't be able to do for the rest of the week, because both shows open Saturday. It's supposed to be zero again tonight, and I had to get home and build a fire before dark. Walked in with a medium pack, which is getting old, I'm getting old, and it isn't getting any easier. When I get home now, the last few weeks, change out my outer layer, build a fire, put away the groceries, I'm already spent. Maybe I could read an article about braising lamb shanks, but I couldn't actually do anything. It's exhausting, carrying a pack up the hill, watching where every foot falls. D called, to tell me it was going to warm up next week. He's been to my place enough that he knows what I'm suffering right now. I was thinking about a movie, walking in this afternoon, a short movie, 12 or 14 minutes, no words, just the sound of the wind in the trees, and a fairly close shot of feet, plodding in snow. The title might be It's A Difficult Day. There's a whole series of these films, Splitting Kindling, Mopping With A View, The Last Time I Saw Duck Hill, and they don't so much mean, as they imply. Went to bed early, so comfortable in my down bag on the sofa that I didn't get back up to stoke the fire, very cold in the house this morning, 2 degrees below zero outside. Made a coffee and left. When I got to the museum Charlotte was already there and had started hanging the painting show, and I finished. 76 paintings hung in eight hours, which must be a record. It's one of the most beautiful shows ever. Alan Gough is a wonderful painter, mostly of landscapes, and I can't wait to see them lit. Mark and Charlotte will do that tomorrow while I make the labels. A lot of labels. Probably 120, which, what with the trimming, will take most of my day; then I can spend Friday putting things away and cleaning and we can open both shows Saturday at 1, which has been the plan for over a year. If you'd asked me yesterday, I would have said it was impossible, but despite the weather, it will actually happen. Openings always require a burst of activity, whatever the discipline, but this one, with the transportation and the installation in below zero temps, has been particularly trying. Coupled with the walking in and out, I've rarely been so tired.