The days are now literally and figuratively longer. There is a time of day, say between 2 and 5, when torpor sets in and all I want to do is take a nap. I’ve done a great job at resisting the impulse. I do wonder, in the final moments before I did, if I’ll say, “I regret that I didn’t take more naps.”

Regret is a hard thing to understand. I have regrets about every single crossroad that I’ve come to in my life. I wish (of course) that I’d taken the alternative direction.

Jim's driveway

I see myself in terms of my failings, of which there are many.

At this point in time, the BLBP is much like a person treading water way out in the ocean. The waves are very high and every so often a rogue wave comes rolling towards me. This project, right now, is the Perfect Storm.

I may be too busy for my own good right now. Midmorning I went and passed out books to little children at Friday Fling. Then I went and distributed books. Then I went to the U-Haul storage unit and began the process of categorizing last Saturday’s books. Then I returned to Friday Fling and again distributed books.

None of the other volunteers are getting out on the lawn and passing out books. Just me.

I talked for some time with an artist and her artist family, and as we spoke, I realized that I regret (right now) not having the time to write.

I returned home – we had evening guests – Jim’s three sisters and one brother. It’s been a few months now, but the evening felt like an Irish wake. There was considerable drinking – Jim’s beer. And there was considerable talk about Jim. It was as if the three sisters and one brother were all re-examining their relationship with him.

They were all also thinking hard about his life and trying to make sense of certain things, particularly his being a hoarder. I suspect that each one most likely harbors regrets. How could they not? Jim died alone with no family present. Was this a death that could have been forestalled? Hard to say.

Both Pete and I continued to contribute Jim stories. Some were not complementary, but family didn’t seem to mind because what we were doing was bringing Jim back to life.

The good thing that’s come of all this is that Pete and I have become friends with Jim’s immediate family. This, in the few weeks ahead, is going to make their rather onerous job easier. It’s hard enough, but then they also are having to deal with some of our neighbors, all of whom it seems are looking for the ultimate bargain.

Regret is like cooties. It’s really easy to pass them on to the person standing closest to us.

Next: 166. 6/19/22: Hrimfara fra Lough Arrow II writes a blog