Checking boxes

Apparently sewer gases degraded the integrity of the concrete, so I found a very heavy replacement cover and replaced it. All there is to do now is bury it so I can find it again and remember to have it pumped out in three years time. I'll probably plant some wild flowers over it. I also bled the air out of the line and the burner kicked in without issue returning me to the first world and on demand hot water. It was a cold shower yesterday morning though that set me in motion to accomplish these basic but deferred projects. Talked to an old friend, of sorts, about attachment styles - anxious and avoidant - and how the two so often find each other. She believes a mature adult form of love is possible in which a decision to love is made, mutuality exists, and the two can love in equal measure. She is not sure she can do the healing she needs to do in one lifetime to achieve that though. That's what this writing thing is about, I suppose. What rises to the surface is what needs to be expelled, worked through, integrated. It's strange to be nearly 55 years old and to have so many of the scenes and conflicts in your head be rooted in your childhood. 

Therapy, kids. Do it while you're young.