My Fresh Hell
Life in Scribbletown.

Apropos of Nothing

Hmm? Oh, good morning! Thanks for the coffee. Man, I tell you, I had the worst dream last night. I know it’s boring to hear about other people’s dreams but this one was frightening. In it, Bush won the election! I KNOW! You can imagine how relieved I am to be awake and find that it’s not….what? Oh. Shit. How much is a ticket from Virginia to Canada? Or, maybe I’ll go somewhere warm. Brazil, perhaps. Brush up on my Spanish.

So. I have nothing of great import to tell this week – too much work and my time keeps getting eaten up by meetings and internal squabblings and……..oh, who cares. Plus, my black armbands keep falling to my elbows, which makes typing a bit of a challenge.
I don’t know what it is about fall but these long, dark drives make me feel….melancholy, sad, with a tinge of ennui……something like that but not that, exactly. Nostalgic, but for what, I don’t know. It’s like mourning for the year that’s almost over. And, everything’s pretty. The leaves on the trees that turn yellow actually reflect light and create a little happy spot wherever they are. And the range of color is pretty amazing. Maybe it’s that last gasp, that last old college try to eke out beauty, against the fields of dead soybean plants and cornstalks, before the tree limbs turn bare and the world freezes over. I’ll bet it’ll be a cold one this year with the huge numbers of wooly caterpillars I see hi-tailing it across the roads on my commute. Sometimes I like a really cold, crisp day. Like, when I run out to get the paper and then back into my warm snuggery of a house. Or, when I take a brisk two block walk to the campus library to spend my lunch break reading. But, a week or two……maybe three….is about all I want of winter. I love a good snowfall but winter, even here in the South, is too long. April is very far away. Red will be 10 months old in April. She will be eating real food and learning to walk. Dusty will be 4 ½ and will have probably learned how to read by April at the rate she’s going.
Dusty was Junior Librarier last night and took an entire shelf of books – mostly gardening books – and moved them onto the sofa, which, DUH, was the new library. Then, I was instructed to check out two books. She then, equipped with pen and paper, made notes about my choices, noted the price (“thirteen-seven” “five-eleven”), and I was allowed to take away a book on birds and another on trees. Then, five minutes later, I had to return them. And, then we moved all the books back onto their original shelf because the Library on Wheels was moving yet again.
On a completely different topic: my favoritest show these days is Ghost Hunter on SciFi. Have you seen this? Two guys, plumbers at RotoRooter by day, own a ghost hunting/debunking business by night. They travel to supposedly haunted places (last night it was Eastern State Pen in NY) and try to capture hauntings on film and voice recording. Last night, they filmed a wraith of some kind running down a corridor – some THING that looked enveloped in a Harry Potterish robe. It was a little scary. I love ghosts and ghost-related things.
Dusty’s favorite word these days is “disgusting,” as in “Ketchup is disgusting!” If she doesn’t like it, it’s disgusting. Baby drool, dead crickets, the eight million food items she won’t touch……all disg…well, you get it.
Currently reading: Nobody’s Perfect by Donald Westlake & King George V by Kenneth Rose.

Currently listening to: Tom Petty & Erykah Badu

Currently eating: corn thin with peanut butter


4:05 p.m. ::
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