By many accounts, it has been a dreadful summer. Rapid development in the Mount Washington Valley, gentrification forcing the labor force out of the area, an increase in rainy weather leading to too many bugs and not enough hiking, and the coming and going of laborers downstairs since we’ve been home. Any plans for getting planned writing done failed long ago, leaving me feeling both trapped and very much a failure.
This is prime territory for depression.
I don’t mind talking about mental health issues because I’m one of the lucky ones. I am rarely down, and when I am, it’s situational. Besides, we must be open about whatever ails our minds and spirits.
For my peace and happiness baseline, I need three things: 7-10 hiking/walking miles daily, quiet, and good writing time.
The weather has literally dampened our mileage to the point we can’t get a rhythm going. Our average is closer to 5 miles a day.
The quiet had been upended by laborers in the downstairs unit, including a Hitler-sympathiz…
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