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runswithscissors


Friday, August 29, 2003

It's been feeling like late September these last few days. Remember my entry of last Saturday, when I went on about predicted cold weather not arriving? It showed the following night, the mercury dropping down into the low 40s. Some neighbors stopped by Sunday a.m. for a brunch kind of thing, folks who live at the bottom of the hill -- they mentioned that when they woke up the thermometer outside their window read 39 . Cold snaps are normal in August in these parts but this one apparently decided it liked here and has lurked about ever since. The nights have gone well down into the 40s, most of the days have not made it above 60.

The finches and hummingbirds are still hanging around, despite the early cold. The crickets and their singing insect brethren remain out there in the grass cranking out late summer music 24 hours a day. A nice soundtrack for Mars-gazing, something I intended to do a bit of last night. Woke up after 3, pulled my drowsy carcass out of bed, took a glance out the window to see that fog had drifted in, thick enough to wipe any possibility of checking out anything the sky might have to offer. Poop.

Tonight. Or tomorrow night. Whenever a clear sky presents itself and I happen to be awake.

So the Vermont warm season is gradually fading, the cold months are on deck. Last week the first batch of local apples and apple cider appeared at the farm stand up the road. Monday the first pumpkins appeared on the lawn at the same business, about two hundred of them, practically aglow with a cheery, eye-catching orange in the soft afternoon sunlight.

Also this last Monday, kids appeared at local roadsides waiting for 8 a.m. school buses, looking less than enchanted about the situation, backpacks slung over shoulders.

Wednesday, driving along a twisty two-lane between here and a neighboring town, I came upon a tree whose top quarter was crowned with orange leaves. Brazenly tarted up for autumn, the first of the season to take plunge.

Later that same day, driving slowly home up a narrow, rocky fourth-class road not far from here, a hawk plunged out from trees on the right-hand side of the road, gliding directly in front of me for 20-25 feet before alighting in an overhanging tree. I stopped, put the car in neutral, peered up at it, just ten or so feet above me to the left. For 30 or 40 seconds, we checked each other out, the hawk apparently not sure what to make of this encounter, expression fierce but body occasionally bobbing back and forth with uncertainty until it finally lifted off and disappeared through the trees to the left, visible briefly through the leaves as a silhouette moving away, wings stationary as it rode a breeze.

Labor Day weekend looms. This summer has slipped by at a startling velocity. And a lovely, graceful summer it was, at least up in the northerly lattitudes.

Signage spotted recently in Montpelier:
-- In the window of Charlie-O's, a bar on Main Street
("Good drinks and bad company since the war between the States"):
CHARLIE-O'S
CAFÉ TABAC
A CIGAR BAR
NOW SMOKIER THAN EVER

-- At one end of the Granite Street Bridge, facing the traffic light on Memorial Drive:
Originally: STOP HERE FOR GREEN LIGHT
Someone white-painted out the last word and painted in a shaky-lettered
replacement, the sign now reading: STOP HERE FOR GREEN BUDS

rws 1:04 PM [+]

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BLATHERINGS

August 2001
September 2001
October 2001
November 2001
December 2001
January 2002
February 2002
March 2002
April 2002
May 2002
June 2002
July 2002
August 2002
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November 2002
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January 2009
February 2009
March 2009
April 2009
June 2009
July 2009

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MORE FOCUSED BLATHERINGS


Travels:
London '01
Pamplona
Italy '03
U.K. '03
Sevilla
Casablanca
Stoke-on-Trent
Barcelona
Québec/Ottawa
Boston/Lisbon/Madrid
Italy '04
Montréal
La Sierra

Events:
Madrid -- arrival
9/11
Emergency Room I
Holidays 2001
Holidays 2002
Holidays 2003
Holidays 2004
Holidays 2005
A neighbor's passing
Madrid -- March 11 bombings
  and aftermath
Emergency Room II
Israeli friend/Madrid Marathon
Madrid -- Royal Wedding
The DELE exam

GONE, a novel:
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10

THE BASTARD CHILDREN OF
JOE ROCCO, a novella:
-- Part 1
-- Part 2
-- Part 3

BURBANK SHRUGGED,
a screenplay:
-- Part 1
-- Part 2
-- Part 3
-- Part 4

Short stories:
Murphy's Wife
Another Autumn
La Queja de Una
  Hermanastra Muy Conocida

Autobiography
-- Personal History
-- Hormones On Parade
-- Accidents, Random Mishaps,
    Personal Problems

.  .  .  .  .  .  .  .


OTHER SOURCES OF WHOLESOME ENTERTAINMENT

People/Weblogs:
dooce
foxvox
fudge it
fear not
rebekka
bookslut
802online
idle words
madhaiku
wockerjabby
grow-a-brain
rebel market
letting me be
out and about
kung fu grippe
fanatical apathy
baghdad burning
wfuv's music blog
kexp's music blog
mimi smartypants
between the miles
just a hippie gypsy
the impossible cool
tomato can brushes
vermont homestead
sugar mountain farm

Good Clean Fun:
gizmodo
futurismic
postsecret
dave barry
human clock
mcsweeney's
spaceweather
book-a-minute
internet archive
self-portrait day
my cat hates you
out of context quotes
surrealist compliment
  generator
strindberg and helium

Makin' Musical Whoopee:
last fm
stereo8
pandora
soma fm

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ABOUT RWS/CONTACT





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