bunt sign

Monday, February 2, 2004

It was storming ferociously when I woke up this morning. In fact, the sound of the rain pounding against the bedroom window is what got me out of bed. I didn't really know what pounding was, though, until the hailstones started caroming off the paving stones in the middle of the afternoon.

It rained so hard for a while this morning that water was coming in through the door frame. I didn't realize the place wasn't watertight, but little droplets crawled along the beam and plopped onto my desk. I thought at first it was the roof leaking, but it was just a little construction fluke, I guess. It didn't last long, and there's nothing to show the landlord, so I won't bother him until the whole place sinks in the mud. Then he'll have to come and take a look.

Between showers today we had moments of brilliant sunshine. There were times when the wind blew the trees and bushes sideways. It was changeable and unpredictable, exactly what we expect this time of year. You have to paint it with a pretty broad brush to call it "predictable," but if you can warn people to expect the unexpected — and mean it — then I guess you have the idea.

The most predictable part of dealing with the weather is the muddy swamp at the end of the driveway. I hated to drive my car, so clean just a week ago, through the puddles. I was half afraid we wouldn't come out again. I never did walk through the mud to get my mail this afternoon. I just waited until I got home tonight and stopped the car in a semi-dry spot near the road. No use complaining to the landlord about that, either. Been there. He really doesn't care.

31 January 2004

A sunset from this weekend.

The Boss was strangely quiet on his first day back after a week away. The flurry of activity I expected never quite got going. He tossed me a question here, a comment there, but no ten-page letters that had to be typed rightnow.

That's good, because it's all still chaotic after the January madness. If he'd asked for a file, it would have to be the one on top of the pile. If I had to dig for something, I might have had to admit that I was disorganized. Messy, even. Let him think I keep the place immaculate. It's an illusion that makes him happy (and it doesn't do me any harm, either).

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"Do you see that man over there in the purple shirt? Are his shoes red?" "No, his shoes are pink." "Oh, I see." (Actual conversation we learned how to sign this week, directly out of the beta version of the new ASL text book.)

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"I never venture into undiscovered territory without a map and a hatchet, but for once I just forged ahead, more or less blindly."

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I'm gonna take my silver dollar,
Change it into quarters,
Shove 'em in the record machine.