far too much writing, far too many photos

runswithscissors


Sunday, October 19, 2003

So. The poker game. Last time I made a profit. Not this time. Had more fun, though. (The good thing about nickel/dime/quarter poker games -- profits feel great, losses make little impact.) This game I turned out to be the sole rep. of the male gender. Kind of interesting to sit at a table with three women, all of whom know each other far better than I know any of them. At times, they talked with one another while I listened, my attention drifting between cards and their conversation. I can tell you this: none of them care for Ahhnold very much.

We're well into post-technicolor autumn around here. Cold, days often gray, punctuated with periods of sun pouring down through dramatic skies. Two nights ago, the local weather types warned of possible snow yesterday at higher elevations. A friend who spent yesterday up on Bolton Mountain said snow fell all day. (Aiiieeee!!)

Yesterday morning: me, sitting here at the computer. I hear a noise from outside the house -- hollow, metallic. In the past that has meant (1) chipmunks trying to climb up the drain pipe from inside [see entry of September 10] and (2) a squirrel climbing up the drain pipe from outside, looking for a way to get to the bird feeders and/or get inside the attic (with no success either way). I go outside, a squirrel head pokes out from the rain gutter, beady eyes giving me the once over. I grab the garden hose, turn it on, shoot a hard, sharp stream of water up there, creating big noise of water against metal, soaking the squirrel. It disappears. To be sure it's gone, I drag the extension ladder out from the garage, climb up to the roof, garden hose in hand. No critter. I send water into the downspout, on the chance the little bugger had squeezed in there to hide. Nothing doing. The squirrel had fled -- with no trees near the house, that means it had to make the big leap to the ground and bolt.

Ah, the rustic life.

While I was up on the roof, it began to rain, same as last time I had to drag out the ladder and go up top. [See entry of October 8.] A short time later as I got ready to drive into town, the downpour intensified, changing from rain to sleet/hail. Sloppy. Three, four miles down the road, it petered out, the sky lightened. Much more user-friendly. In town, someone from Adamant, a few miles from here, mentioned they'd had about an inch of snow/hail.

Went to a film, a fine activity for a gray, cold afternoon -- a French number, Le Cercle Rouge. A thriller of the hard-boiled kind, considered a classic. I can see why.

(Other films seen recently:
Intolerable Cruelty -- a hoot. I find it hard not to like a film that includes a hit man named Wheezy Joe.
School of Rock -- er, well, a B-film, with a sweet disposition and some funny moments along the way. Worth staying with for the big performance number at the film's climax. Jack Black is a bundle of energy; Joan Cusack is a natural resource.
And most of all: Lost In Translation -- it warrants all the hype, it bears up under all the ecstatic reviews.)

Today: another cold autumn day. Sky mostly filled with restless gray clouds, sunlight making it through from time to time, seeping between fissures in the overcast. Met with the woman who'll be housesitting here while I'm back in Madrid. (A doll -- a capable, hyper-responsible individual I've been blessed to have taking care of the place during my time overseas these last few years.) A month from now I'll be back on the Iberian Peninsula. It will be interesting, I'm sure, to be there once more after 5 months away.

Is it just me or have the days been skidding by at an unbelievable velocity?

*************

Images from this last Tuesday, the day after Columbus Day, the first one taken here on the hill, the others on a swing through East Montpelier:







rws 3:05 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
September 2002
October 2002
November 2002
December 2002
January 2003
February 2003
March 2003
April 2003
May 2003
June 2003
July 2003
August 2003
September 2003
October 2003
November 2003
December 2003
January 2004
February 2004
March 2004
April 2004
May 2004
June 2004
July 2004
August 2004
September 2004
October 2004
November 2004
December 2004
January 2005
February 2005
March 2005
April 2005
May 2005
June 2005
July 2005
August 2005
September 2005
October 2005
November 2005
December 2005
January 2006
February 2006
March 2006
April 2006
May 2006
June 2006
July 2006
August 2006
September 2006
October 2006
November 2006
December 2006
January 2007
February 2007
March 2007
April 2007
May 2007
June 2007
July 2007
August 2007
September 2007
October 2007
November 2007
December 2007
January 2008
February 2008
March 2008
April 2008
May 2008
June 2008
July 2008
August 2008
September 2008
October 2008
November 2008
December 2008
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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runswithscissors would like to thank everyone who's ever lived for everything they've ever done.



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