Sunday afternoon ramble
A grand day. Its much cooler, and I can sit out side.
The sensation that Fall may not be all that far away is on this breeze. Fall in California only happens after the prerequisite acreage is offered in a burnt offering to the goddesses of harvest and technology. Some years the gods require ever more and more, other years they may allow the rains to come early...
I don't participate in this ritual, as I don't smoke. You see the importance of this act is that you must drive down a freeway, or if at all possible in the forest, and smoke, and fling your cigarette out the window, in hopes that the home of someone you don't know is burnt to the ground. This assures the good people of the golden state another year of prosperity and plenty to the surviving population. Apparently we didn't do this enough and we have displeased the gods last year as the economy is the gutter. The republicans, being by and large, very religious people, have assured us that we may have more to torch, as the freeways are no longer kept clean and trimmed, the added tinder is makign a far more pleasing sacrifice. This year we pray that the sacrifices are accepted early, allowing the rains to arrive soon.
But I digress...
I am a bit cranky and bitchy in that way I get when little things all begin to take on extra time... a box of fly/yellow jacket stuff, that I have been too lazy to refill, I put it in some location so I wouldn't loose it. It was a smallish yellow box, and of course I got increasingly more pissed off because a seemingly simple chore I didn't want to do, but I knew would only take a few stinky minutes if I just did it, ended up 30 minutes, with Milton and Spencer fleeing my wrath. They are smart, they know it is far better to hide than to help when I get this way. I used to think these moods were to be blamed on low blood sugar... if I was a woman, I could blame it on something else. But alas...
Those of you that are my age know the drill, part of this is caused by an increasingly absent mindedness. A trip to the gym is repeated as I left my keys at home and the annoying little fob thingy that you need to enter was on it. A trip to the compost pile in my boots (my tendon is being a pain, so I even tho I would love to wear my flip flops, I need to wear some substantial shoes) means that I tracked in dirt into the house which I needed then to sweep up, and so I went to the place in the garage that hold the broom and dust pan and that falls off, so had to nail that back... all the time I was making oaths, and swearing like a sailor. Then a nice (but slightly nutty) Indian woman (the lady who brought us our dear departed Cleo) came to the door and said she couldn't start her car. she takes a daily walk in the park during the hottest part of the day,witha warm jacket and sweatshirt (102f is fairly pleasant weather in New Delhi I guess. I tried my best to hide, but of course, they found me... no problem, back out the Xodó, hook up the cables, and started her up... of course she had run the ac with only the battery (bless her for not idling... but honey!). So now I am finally calmed down, sitting in the backyard, listening to KCRW on the ITunes radio, watching my magnificent trees blow in the delta breeze. Milton brought me some popcorn, and life is good... finally.....
Yesterday we all went to two movies, a good idea as it was 102f. Somehow I managed to sell my soul to the devil and promised M if we saw Final Destination (in 3D for gawd sakes!) he would go with me to see Taking Woodstock. Despite our strong state of the union, we both have wildly divergent tastes when it comes to TV and the cinema... He likes movies, the bloodier the better. He doesn't dream so these things do not seem to affect him. How is it that the sweetest, calmest, kindest person on the planet can sit (and write... he finds it relaxing?!?!?!?) for hours in front of the SiFi channel and work for hours. He likes to sneak out and catch a bloody matinee ( I refuse to see gore, if I possibly can). I prefer films that are subtitled, and have magnificent vistas... he prefers movies with gore and things that come at you (in the case of 3d it makes you duck). Needless to say, I was far fonder of the film 2 than movie 1 yesterday. His mother sits and watches the most appalling things on television, and then hurries off to mass. I like HGTV, Travel, PBS and MSNBC. The one area we both agree on is AMC and Turner classic films... always good...
I best go, there are screams and cries coming from the living room, he must be writing his dissertation. I like to wander by and ask, “who died?”
The sensation that Fall may not be all that far away is on this breeze. Fall in California only happens after the prerequisite acreage is offered in a burnt offering to the goddesses of harvest and technology. Some years the gods require ever more and more, other years they may allow the rains to come early...
I don't participate in this ritual, as I don't smoke. You see the importance of this act is that you must drive down a freeway, or if at all possible in the forest, and smoke, and fling your cigarette out the window, in hopes that the home of someone you don't know is burnt to the ground. This assures the good people of the golden state another year of prosperity and plenty to the surviving population. Apparently we didn't do this enough and we have displeased the gods last year as the economy is the gutter. The republicans, being by and large, very religious people, have assured us that we may have more to torch, as the freeways are no longer kept clean and trimmed, the added tinder is makign a far more pleasing sacrifice. This year we pray that the sacrifices are accepted early, allowing the rains to arrive soon.
But I digress...
I am a bit cranky and bitchy in that way I get when little things all begin to take on extra time... a box of fly/yellow jacket stuff, that I have been too lazy to refill, I put it in some location so I wouldn't loose it. It was a smallish yellow box, and of course I got increasingly more pissed off because a seemingly simple chore I didn't want to do, but I knew would only take a few stinky minutes if I just did it, ended up 30 minutes, with Milton and Spencer fleeing my wrath. They are smart, they know it is far better to hide than to help when I get this way. I used to think these moods were to be blamed on low blood sugar... if I was a woman, I could blame it on something else. But alas...
Those of you that are my age know the drill, part of this is caused by an increasingly absent mindedness. A trip to the gym is repeated as I left my keys at home and the annoying little fob thingy that you need to enter was on it. A trip to the compost pile in my boots (my tendon is being a pain, so I even tho I would love to wear my flip flops, I need to wear some substantial shoes) means that I tracked in dirt into the house which I needed then to sweep up, and so I went to the place in the garage that hold the broom and dust pan and that falls off, so had to nail that back... all the time I was making oaths, and swearing like a sailor. Then a nice (but slightly nutty) Indian woman (the lady who brought us our dear departed Cleo) came to the door and said she couldn't start her car. she takes a daily walk in the park during the hottest part of the day,witha warm jacket and sweatshirt (102f is fairly pleasant weather in New Delhi I guess. I tried my best to hide, but of course, they found me... no problem, back out the Xodó, hook up the cables, and started her up... of course she had run the ac with only the battery (bless her for not idling... but honey!). So now I am finally calmed down, sitting in the backyard, listening to KCRW on the ITunes radio, watching my magnificent trees blow in the delta breeze. Milton brought me some popcorn, and life is good... finally.....
Yesterday we all went to two movies, a good idea as it was 102f. Somehow I managed to sell my soul to the devil and promised M if we saw Final Destination (in 3D for gawd sakes!) he would go with me to see Taking Woodstock. Despite our strong state of the union, we both have wildly divergent tastes when it comes to TV and the cinema... He likes movies, the bloodier the better. He doesn't dream so these things do not seem to affect him. How is it that the sweetest, calmest, kindest person on the planet can sit (and write... he finds it relaxing?!?!?!?) for hours in front of the SiFi channel and work for hours. He likes to sneak out and catch a bloody matinee ( I refuse to see gore, if I possibly can). I prefer films that are subtitled, and have magnificent vistas... he prefers movies with gore and things that come at you (in the case of 3d it makes you duck). Needless to say, I was far fonder of the film 2 than movie 1 yesterday. His mother sits and watches the most appalling things on television, and then hurries off to mass. I like HGTV, Travel, PBS and MSNBC. The one area we both agree on is AMC and Turner classic films... always good...
I best go, there are screams and cries coming from the living room, he must be writing his dissertation. I like to wander by and ask, “who died?”
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